The Red Haired Samurai
by ZukoFlame
Summary: When young Shinta is taken in, he is a small frail little boy. Somehow, Hiko's got to train him to become the next Mitsurugi Master.
1. Chapter 1: The New Apprentice

My first Kenshin fanfic! Hopefully I'll do an okay job with it. However, after reading some other Kenshin/Hiko fics, I realized that mine was awfully similar to some other ones. Please note that I'm not trying to copy anyone, and I had these ideas before I read any other ones. But don't worry because my next chapters (I hope) will be 100 percent original, since this story will cover from the time when he meets Hiko to the day he leaves to join the revolution. But anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. It is owned by the owner…

* * *

Red hair. That was the first distinguishable feature Hiko had noticed. But was it truly red? Or merely dyed with the blood of the men that had been slaughtered in front of him?

Violet eyes. That was the second thing Hiko had noticed. Eyes that had been subject to look upon the mangled corpses of those he had once cared for mingled with the ones he despised most.

And then there were his hands, raw and bloody as a result of the grave digging he had done for over thirty bodies. A task not fitting for any child, but then again, this wasn't any child.

"What's your name kid?" Hiko finally asked after he had spent some time examining the child.

"Shinta," the boy replied softly, in a voice that could have been mistaken for that of a young girl's. Hiko stifled a laugh. _Shinta, the red haired samurai, oh how that would strike fear into the hearts of the samurai…no…Shinta has to go… _

"Not a name very fitting for a swordsman." The boy looked up wide-eyed at the giant samurai, who was looking off into the distance, still deep in thought. He then quickly flicked his gaze down to the child, then said,

"From now on, your name is to be Kenshin. I will also give you my most precious knowledge." It was silent for a time after that, and a crow landed on one of the crosses that had been used to mark the grave of one of the slavers.

"You—you think I can become a swordsman?" asked the boy timidly, avoiding eye contact.

"Of course I do or else I wouldn't have said it." Hiko eyed the boy for a few seconds before he turned around briskly and walked out of the makeshift graveyard, weaving in and out of the crosses. A strong east wind blew, and his cloak billowed behind him, his hair following suit. He didn't look back to see if the boy would follow; he had told him of the village at the foot of the mountain a week before, and if that was the kind of life the child had wanted, he would have gone. So when he heard the soft patter of footsteps behind him, he smirked in expectance.

So they trudged up the mountain, without a word exchanged between the two of them. However, despite the fact that Hiko believed he was walking relatively slow, it wasn't long before Kenshin began to lag behind, out of breath. Hiko sighed in annoyance and grabbed Kenshin's hand, practically dragging him along. _This kid better grow…_Hiko thought to himself, _No way am I having an apprentice who can't even break five feet…_

"Here we are," Hiko announced proudly as the cabin came into view. It was nothing much, just a log cabin with a bathhouse to the side of it and a large clearing ideal for training. The rumble of a waterfall could be heard a ways off, but it was hidden from view by the numerous trees that surrounded the cabin.

He let go of Kenshin's hand, which caused the child to fall limply to the ground. "Eh?" Hiko turned at the sound of a soft thump in the grass. He groaned inwardly and swung the child over his shoulder, then stepped into the cabin. Hiko shoved a table to the side to make room for the futon, which he pulled from out of the closet. _This should do…_ He tossed a blanket and a pillow carelessly onto the bed, and then gently placed the child down on the futon. The child was incredibly light, he observed, no more than fifty pounds perhaps.

Hiko sighed long and hard, wondering if he'd done the right thing, and about what he'd gotten himself into. He'd never taken care of a child before, and was dreading it. But the boy had potential, he could tell, he just had to nurture that potential, and mold him into a Mitsurugi master. He continued to think on these things while he prepared dinner. He began to cook the Domburi, which was his favorite dish-a simple rice bowl with chicken and beef-not really caring whether or not the child would like it.

He stirred the concoction patiently, observing his young deshi who appeared to be sleeping soundly. He stared at him for a long minute, observing that he would definitely need some new clothes-his bloodstained Gi would never do-and that he was far to skinny than was healthy for any growing child. No wonder he had gotten tired so probably hadn't found anything good to eat during that past week, for the child didn't seem as if he was very apt for hunting. The slavers he had lived with probably hadn't fed him too well either. _He must have been nearly starved to death by those bastards…_

"Mmm…" Kenshin stirred, then flicked his eyes open, his violet eyes reflecting the stove light beautifully. He sat up slowly, and then looked upon his master, who had stopped stirring the rice.

"You passed out earlier." Kenshin nodded in understanding, as if it were a common thing. There was a long silence between the two of them, and Hiko began to cook the meat over the coals in the depression in the floor, allowing the rice some time to cool. Kenshin seemed somewhat distant, and appeared to be staring at an intricately patterned vase sitting on a shelf beside the wall. His eyes drifted onto a katana propped against a table, the sheath detailed and embellished with wonderful jewels and rubies. The gems formed a small rainbow of color against the wall when reflected by the firelight. Kenshin could only imagine the kind of sword that was hidden within the sheath.

"You like the sword, huh?" Kenshin turned suddenly and faced his master, almost forgetting he wasn't the only one in the room. Then he nodded, looking back over at the brilliant weapon.

"I hardly ever use that one, far to flashy for my taste." He added more coal to the fire, causing embers to fly. "It was a gift my father gave me when I completed my kenjutsu training. He died not long after." Hiko opened the jug of sake that had been lying next to him, unscrewed the top, and took a good long swig before talking.

"So…how old are you anyway?" Hiko asked gruffly in between sips.

"Well, nine, I think."

"Nani!" Hiko gagged, nearly choking on the sake he was swallowing. He had surmised that the child could be no more than seven years old.

"I uh…might be ten already, but that depends if summer has started yet."

"Even worse. You have a lot of growing to do if you plan on becoming a samurai."

"Well…If I remember correctly, my father wasn't much taller than my mother..."

"And I'm guessing your mother wasn't some Amazon," he said with a quick grin. Kenshin didn't fully understand what his new master was talking about, but from the way his master was acting, it seemed as if he thought he was too small for a nine-or ten-year old.

"Well, I suppose we can't help that." He looked thoughtfully at the young child-whom he had just discovered really wasn't all the young-and then choosing his words carefully, spoke.

"The style of kenjutsu I'm going to be teaching you is a very old style, a style that takes much physical effort, and the utmost fitness as well…but it seems to me that your body wasn't meant to practice the Mitsurugi style." Kenshin looked sadly at his lap, and dug his fingers into the blanket. His new master was going to turn him away because he wasn't good enough, or "fit for duty" a term that his previous master had used to describe him.

"However," Kenshin quickly looked up at his master, waiting for him to continue, "If you can find the strength to dig thirty graves in less than a week, you will have no problem mastering the Mitsurugi style." Kenshin looked at his master with an expression of shock, which turned into delight. He didn't smile, it wasn't really expected, especially after spending an entire week in a field full of corpses, but the child was hopeful, and that was good.

"Now go back to sleep. I'll wake you up when the food's ready." Kenshin nodded obediently, then lied back down on the futon, snuggling up under the covers. But as Hiko continued to cook the meal, he was faintly aware of a pair of violet eyes watching him intently.

* * *

"I heard one of them survived."

"So did I. And a large samurai was there as well." The short man set his cup of sake on the table, then wiped his mouth gruffly.

"They say the ronin were wiped out so fast, they were barely given time to scream," another one said.

"I doubt that," a taller man argued as he ordered another round of drinks. "That man would have to be a god. And if he were so good, he would have eliminated any witnesses. This is probably all rumor."

"Excuse me, but _I_ heard all this straight from the horses mouth. A traveler I know spotted the swordsman and hid in the woods. He saw the whole thing."

"Pft." The tall man chugged down his drink, then belched loudly.

"A tall swordsman you say?" The three men in the bar turned to look at the man who had spoken. He must have been at least six feet tall, with jet-black hair tied neatly into a samurai topknot. A daisho hung at his waist, but whether he wore it to intimidate or because he was skilled in kenjutsu was yet to be determined.

"Who are you?" The short one asked, clearly drunk.

"Just a wandering samurai is all, but I'm quite fascinated by your story. You say the man was very tall and killed with god-like speed? Do you remember what he looked like at all?"

"Well I wasn't actually there…"

"But the style of kenjutsu! What did the traveler say of it?" The samurai inquired fervently.

"Well, he's known to be a bit irrational…but he sure raved on about how fast he was, and that it only took four-"

"-Three" The shorter man corrected,

"-Three swings and that was the end." The samurai smiled vindictively at the man's reply.

"So, he's here…" He stroked his chin thoughtfully, ignoring the cup of sake that had just been placed in front of him by a frivolous waitress.

"Who?" The short man asked, but when he looked around, but the mysterious samurai was already gone.

* * *

"I know you're awake," Hiko said once the dinner was finished. "So you might as well get up and eat." Kenshin slowly poked his head out from under the covers, and blushed.

"Here." Hiko handed Kenshin a bowl of the Domburi, then when the child had settled on the floor across from him, he handed him a rice ball. Kenshin eyed the food with surprise.

"This is all for me?" he asked softly, his tone suggesting he didn't feel he deserved it.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Hiko asked between bites, a bit surprised by the question. Kenshin looked at the bowl in his lap, feeling a bit embarrassed.

"No reason," he answered, his voice barely audible. He separated the chopsticks and used them to pick up the pieces of meat before depositing them into his mouth. Then he headed onto the rice. He was finished fairly quickly and had just started on the rice ball when Hiko filled his bowl with another serving of Domburi.

"Quit staring and eat up. We have to put some meat on you." Kenshin continued to stare at the food. He had never been given seconds in his life.

"You're still hungry, aren't you?" Kenshin nodded feebly. "Then eat." Kenshin finally picked up the chopsticks and picked at his second serving, still feeling a bit chary. _I really have my work cut out for me…_Hiko thought as they finished up the dinner. Once they were done, he took the bowls and set them away to be washed, then turned his attention back to Kenshin.

"Now take these and go take a bath. You could use it." The samurai handed the boy a bundle of clothes and a bar of soap. "The clothes will be a bit big for you, but for now it will have to do. The bathhouse is outside to your left." Kenshin took the bundle in his arms and began to head outside, but stopped at the doorway.

"Arigato Shishou, arigato for everything." Then he bowed deferentially, slid the shoji door open, and stepped out. He smiled slightly and bowed again before sliding the door back into place.

Hiko raised his eyebrows for a moment, then smirked. He wasn't used to people bowing to him, and felt a bit uncomfortable with the fact of some child worshipping him, but found it flattering nonetheless. He definitely wasn't going to have a problem with obedience from the child; it seemed to him that the problem would be pulling him out of that slavish mind set, and getting him to have a mind of his own. _This kid is going to change everything… _Hiko sighed and pushed away the thought, then snuffed out a few of the candles, causing the items in the room to cast eerie shadows. Then he retreated to his futon, awaiting his young apprentice's return.

* * *

What do you guys think? My first Kenshin fanfic, so I'm still working on getting their personalities right…and crits…? Things you liked…? Well as always, please leave a review!


	2. Chapter 2: The Marketplace

Hello! Sorry it took a little while to update. What you're about to read is actually my fourth and final version of this chapter. I was trying to squeeze so many important scenes into this one chapter, and the story ended up being rushed. So I rewrote it, hated it, then rewrote it, still didn't like it, so I finally came up with this. Hope it was worth the effort!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. Yea.

* * *

The fire flickered and crackled, causing the shadows on the wall to dance with a reddish glow. The beautiful jewels and embellishments on the katana that had been propped up against the wall shined and shimmered, reflecting light onto Hiko's sharp, contoured features. His mouth curled into a frown, and his eyebrows furrowed together.

Kenshin hadn't returned.

A wolf howled outside under the pale full moon, frightening away all the small creatures that could fall victim to the beast. The only other sound that could be heard was the slow, monotonous clicking of a small wooden clock, which Hiko had placed beside him. He glanced at the time: Two minutes past ten.

Kenshin _still_ hadn't returned.

It had to have been well over an hour since Hiko sent the child with a bundle of oversized clothes and an almost completely dissolved bar of soap to wash himself. He imagined the child had been dirty, but now the child had far exceeded the time any normal person would have taken to bathe himself. _Don't tell me he drowned_, Hiko thought sarcastically as he reached for his cloak.

He slid open the shoji door, but to his surprise, there was Kenshin standing in the doorway, pale and shivering. He shrank at the sight of his master, and fumbled for an excuse as to why he took so long.

"Enough." Hiko held up his hand to silence the child before nudging him inside. "As long as you're not dead, it's fine. But next time—why are you shivering?" Hiko asked, suddenly noticing that the boy's limbs were trembling.

"I-I couldn't figure out how to w-warm up the bath…so I-I took it cold." Hiko rolled his eyes. He would never have suspected that _that _had been the reason why his deshi was so late. Hiko sighed. He had hoped that at least Kenshin had learned how to take a proper bath.

"If you didn't know, you should have told me, baka." Kenshin looked at his feet, feeling a bit ashamed.

"I-I thought you'd be mad t-that I didn't know h-how to use it," he admitted softly, attempting to hide his trembling fingertips in his gi. Hiko sighed deeply, and Kenshin tensed, expecting to get a harsh beating. Instead, his master reached for the blanket on his futon and placed it over Kenshin's quivering shoulders. He looked up at his master with bemusement, but Hiko ignored Kenshin's reaction.

"I'm not going to blame you for something you were never taught." Kenshin pulled the blanket closer, replacing his expression of bewilderment with one of content. He even allowed a small smile to creep upon his face.

"Thank you," he whispered, just barely loud enough for Hiko to hear. Hiko paused before answering, wondering if an answer really needed to be given.

"Go to your futon, Kenshin," was the best he came up with. "You don't have to go to sleep yet, but I at least want to rest for a while."

"Hai." Kenshin walked over to his futon and sat down on top of the covers, Hiko's blanket still draped over his shoulders. He then pulled out a yellow top and string out from inside his gi and then looked up at his master.

"Is it all right if—"

"It's fine, it's fine. Just not for too long." Hiko lazily put out the fire on the grill by splashing some water on it, and then sat down on his futon facing his deshi, who was busy winding the string around the top. Hiko watched the child spin the top for at least ten minutes straight. It was a peculiar thing. Kenshin wasn't smiling, in fact, it didn't look as if he was enjoying it at all. It looked routine.

"Do you do this every night?" Hiko asked with a hint of sarcasm. Kenshin suddenly looked up, as if he had just been ripped away from his own little world. The top gave its final two rotations before falling on its side with a _**clunk**_. Kenshin then picked it up delicately, his visage hidden by his locks of scarlet.

"I…" Kenshin picked up the string and wrapped it around the toy, not because he was planning to spin it again, but because he felt the need to occupy himself with something while he thought of a good answer to give his master. Certainly he didn't want to lie, but he had to be honest with himself. Why _did _he spin that top everyday? Even _he_ didn't have an answer to give himself.

Hiko saw that the child was troubled, and was probably searching for an answer to give. It really didn't matter that much to the samurai, and obviously there was a much deeper story behind the ritual, one that Kenshin did not want to share.

"Nevermind," Hiko finally said, dismissing the topic for another day. "It's about time you got to sleep. You'll be starting your training tomorrow." Kenshin picked up the toy and muttered a soft, "Hai," before setting the toy next to him on the floor. Perhaps he found it reassuring to know that it would be right beside him.

"Kenshin,"

"Hai?" Kenshin laid down on his futon and pulled to covers up to his chest, and then turned to the side to face his master, whose futon was adjacent to his. Hiko studied Kenshin for a few seconds then shook his head.

"Nothing." Hiko snuffed out the remaining two candles, plunging the cabin into complete darkness. Clouds shrouded the moon, so no extra light could be found to illuminate the night sky, nor the cabin.

Hiko grunted. He would most likely be spending the night ruminating over all the repercussions of his actions. He had just adopted a child, and told him he would train him in Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. But Hiko had to be honest with himself and admit one simple fact.

He knew nothing about children.

He sure hoped to hell he knew what he was doing. Hiko sighed—for the 100th time that day—and turned to face his young deshi, who had already fallen asleep. His eyes hadn't adjusted yet, so he couldn't even make out an outline of him, but he could hear Kenshin's slow steady breathing. _What have I gotten myself into…? _Hiko thought, before falling into a pitiful sleep.

* * *

"Get up." Hiko tossed Kenshin's old gi—which he had spent over an hour cleaning—onto the bed, startling the child.

"Huh…?" Kenshin sat up in his futon, then looked down quizzically at his lap where his master had deposited his clothing.

"We used up the last of the rice last night, so we're gonna go into town to buy some more food." Kenshin looked up warily at his master who already had his cloak on and groaned. It was probably six in the morning, and sleep was not something he had gotten a lot of that past week.

"Yes, master." He mumbled, but it came out more like, "Yessmasser." He dragged himself out the futon and hobbled outside, squinting as the daylight temporarily blinded him. He washed himself up quickly, the freezing water shocking him into awareness. He quickly put on his old gi, and then ran to catch up with his master who was already on his way down the mountain.

Hiko was leading the way, and Kenshin trailed behind him examining all manner of bird, flower, and insect that happened to be along the path. As they continued down the mountain path, the sound of crashing water came closer and closer. Kenshin quickened his pace; eager to see what sounded like a waterfall. The trail then spilt in two, with one continuing down the mountain, and the other bending to the side. What lay beyond that path remained hidden by evergreens and shrubs, but the sound of the water was definitely coming from that direction. Hiko continued to go straight, but Kenshin stopped and looked down the other road.

"Master, where does this path lead?" Kenshin asked as he peered through the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was hidden behind them.

"The waterfall. Now let's go. I want to get there early." Kenshin stole one final glance before hurrying to catch up with his master.

"Why?"

"Because I don't like crowds."

"Is that why you live all by yourself?" Hiko ground his teeth. This child had too many questions.

"Yes." Hiko took a swig of his sake—which he had not neglected to bring with him—and drained the contents of the jar. Kenshin remained quiet, apparently devoid of any more questions. If he indeed had more inquiries, he kept them to himself, for he was beginning to realize that his questions were agitating his master.

They continued in silence for almost an hour, Kenshin observing everything that nature had to offer, and Hiko deep in thought.

"We're almost there." Hiko observed, breaking the silence. Kenshin looked up from the caterpillar he had been inspecting, then nodded an affirmative, "Hai," as a cluster of houses came into view.

Once they reached the village, they headed straight for the market. All of the shops were just beginning to open, so there was hardly a crowd. They stopped in front of a shop were a middle aged woman stood. She greeted her first customers of the day with a smile.

"How are you today, Seijuro-san? I see you've got a child with you," The middle-aged woman said, the smile still plastered on her face.

_Seijuro-san…? _Kenshin thought. It had suddenly dawned on him that he had never been told his master's name.

"Yes, this is my new apprentice, Kenshin." Hiko said casually to the woman. Kenshin blinked and looked up at his master, for the calling of his name had pulled him from his thoughts and back to reality. A young girl who was bringing out sacks of rice from inside the shop glanced at the red head and smiled. Kenshin blushed.

"Now, what is it you've come to purchase today Seijuro-san?"

"Five pounds of rice, one pound of tofu, a pound of Soba noodles…" Kenshin soon lost interest in the many items his master was purchasing, and found himself observing the young girl who had been bringing out the rice from the shop. She met his gaze and giggled, her bright blue eyes twinkling. She was probably no older than he, with short brown hair held together in a ponytail with a pink ribbon, and a bright pink kimono to match.

She motioned for Kenshin to wait while she disappeared into the shop. She emerged a few moments later with a bright red lollypop that matched the one already in her mouth. She hid the piece of candy in her sleeve as she walked past the middle-aged woman, then quickly pulled Kenshin to the side of the shop, where the adults wouldn't see them.

"What are you-"

"Shh!" The young girl warned. Kenshin looked at her quizzically, but shut his mouth.

"Here," she said softly as she pulled out the lollypop from her sleeve and held it out for him to take. Kenshin was hesitant to take the gift, wondering if he was supposed to give something in return. She sighed in annoyance. "Take it quick before my aunt sees," she whispered. "She doesn't like me giving away her candy."

"Then why—"

"Just take it!" Kenshin took the lollypop and stuffed it up his sleeve, then looked back at the girl disconcertedly, expecting an explanation.

"It matches your hair," she explained with a giggle, pulling on one of Kenshin's crimson strands. Kenshin turned red and shied away, a bit confused by the brunette's behavior. She frowned for a moment, but then smiled again as a question popped into her head. "So what's your name?"

"Sh—Kenshin. My name is Kenshin." He replied, just barely catching himself. He still wasn't used to his new name, and it would probably take him a while before he was.

"Ooohhhh, so you're a swordsman right?" She asked with interest.

"I guess so."

"So where's your sword?" she asked politely, still sucking on her cherry flavored lollypop.

"I don't have one yet."

"Oh…well, when you learn some sword tricks you'll have to show me sometime," she suggested. Then she looked at Kenshin for a few moments and started giggling. This caused a befuddled expression to cross upon the redhead's face. When she saw his confusion, her laughter reduced to a smile, and then she spoke.

"I was laughing because you don't have any manners. You haven't even asked for my name!" Kenshin furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, for he clearly didn't find the matter funny. When he still didn't reply, the brunette took the lollypop out of her mouth and shook her head.

"Well, if you won't ask for my name, I'll tell you. It's Emiko. Emiko Hirano." She said with a smirk. "Well anyway…I hope you come visit sometime okay? Maybe we can play a game or something. There aren't that many kids my age around here, so it gets pretty boring…" She continued on about how boring the town was, and how boring it was working day in and day out in the shop. She even went into detail about her younger brothers and sisters.

_Do all girls talk this much? _Kenshin wondered to himself as the young sprightly girl continued on. But he couldn't help but admire her. She was so bubbly and cute and seemed perfectly alive. Wait. Did he just say cute?

"We could play on my swing, or fly kites and climb trees—"

"I can't," Kenshin interrupted softly.

"Huh?"

"I'll be training so I can't. I'm sorry," he said softly, his bangs shrouding his eyes from view.

"Oh," she said simply, clearly very disappointed. She had just found a playmate her age and found out she wouldn't be seeing much of him at all.

"But…I'll see you whenever we come down for supplies," Kenshin offered, hoping to cheer the girl up. He couldn't stand seeing people unhappy.

"Yea, I guess so." She put the lollypop back into her mouth and smiled, her bright blue eyes sparkling. "I—"

"Kenshin! I'm leaving. So unless you want to stay here all by yourself I'd suggest you hurry it up." Kenshin blushed. His master had probably been paying close attention to his conversation with the girl.

"Yes, master." Kenshin turned to Emiko and smiled the smallest of smiles, for it was the best he could manage, then hurried to the front of the shop to meet up with his master. Hiko was paying the woman when Kenshin came into view, and Kenshin went to stand beside him. He looked around for Emiko, finally spotting her inside the shop, peering through the door. _She must have passed through the back_. He thought to himself.

As he and Hiko turned to leave, Kenshin looked back at the shop one last time, and found the girl waving at him. She mouthed goodbye as Kenshin and his master continued through the market, before being blocked out of view as they turned a corner. Kenshin then turned his attention back to his master, who was looking dead at him.

"I think someone has an interest in you," Hiko said tantalizingly. Kenshin literally turned red, then started speaking in his defense.

"She just gave me a piece of candy. That's all."

"That's all?" Hiko repeated with a smirk.

Silence.

Hiko decided not to trouble the child any longer, and instead continued walking through the town, which was just beginning to bustle with people.

"Before we leave, there is one last place we must go." Kenshin nodded mechanically, for his mind was truly somewhere else. They proceeded to the center of the town, passing various shops that sold all manner of items that seemed to be of no particular use to anyone. Finally they arrived at their destination: A sake shop.

"Good morning Hibiki-san," Hiko said respectfully.

"Good morning to you, too. Aha! You have a youngster with you. Your son?"

"Apprentice," Hiko corrected. He wasn't sure how the old man could figure that a tall muscular man with black hair would be able to produce a short skinny red haired child. Hiko summed it up to the man's senescence and left it at that. He then handed Hibiki his empty sake jar, who took it inside to be refilled.

Kenshin took this time to glance around the town, which was now bustling with people. He let his eyes wander across the crowd, and they rested upon a tall man with jet-black hair and sharp features. He was leaning beside a small shop with a daisho strapped to his waist, conversing with a middle-aged man. Kenshin inspected the man more closely and noticed a slight resemblance between he and his master. It was quite common though for men with black hair to carry swords, but there was something about him that made Kenshin uneasy. He tried let his eyes wander again but was brought back to the same peculiar face. But as he looked upon the man once more, Kenshin's heart skipped a beat.

The man was looking dead at him. And he was smiling.

* * *

Dun dun dun! You'll just have to tune in next chapter for the rest! Again, sorry for the late update, but man, with testing coming up, I've hardly had any free time. But I promise to continue with the story, and to update as soon as I can. And by the way, please leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3: Satsujenken

After about two months of waiting, here's my 3rd chapter! Sorry it took so long, I have finals this week, and I've spent the past few weeks studying. My last day of school is on Thursday, so I should be able to update my story a lot faster. (Finally, freshman year is over! Woot! But now the little eighth graders are coming…) Anyway, I was planning on making this one a bit longer, but I decided that where I ended was a good place to stop. I also have to give a big shout out to Kaylendra for beta-reading my story, because her suggestions really helped. Thank you!

Disclaimer: I will never own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

Kenshin froze.

He was looking dead at him. And he was smiling.

Kenshin finally tore away from the samurai's piercing gaze, and glanced over at his master who was paying for his newly refilled jug of alcohol. Then it suddenly occurred to Kenshin that perhaps it wasn't he whom the mysterious samurai had been staring at, but his master! Kenshin quickly looked back to the place where the samurai had been standing, but to Kenshin's discontentment, the man had vanished entirely into the sea of people.

"This is far too expensive," Hiko muttered as he fastened the jug to his waist.

"I'm sorry, but with taxes being so high…" The old man trailed off and shook his head.

"I understand, the Shogunte's sucking the people dry…" Hiko said, for the high taxes had affected him as well. "But I won't bother myself with politics. Thanks again for the sake."

"No, thank _you._" The elder bowed respectfully as he stuffed the coins Hiko had paid him with into his pocket.

"C'mon Kenshin, we're leaving," Hiko announced, wishing to go back to the solitude-or at least _semi-solitude_ of his cabin. He turned around briskly and began his way down the dirt road, but stopped when he realized that Kenshin wasn't following. He looked over his shoulder to find that his deshi was looking off into the crowd, brows furrowed, and judging from the frantic movement of his eyes, he appeared to be searching for someone.

"Kenshin!" Hiko bellowed in a voice that would frighten any man, much more so for a child. Kenshin whirled around at hearing his name called with such importunity, and as he began to follow his master down the street, he tried to force himself to forget about the enigmatic swordsman. But even so, he could not erase the man's smile from his mind. Who was he, and what did he want with his master? Kenshin contemplated telling his master about what he'd seen, but eventually decided against it. The swordsman could just have easily been smiling at someone else, for the marketplace was full of people, but even so…

"How long do you plan on staring into space?" Hiko said sarcastically as he looked over his shoulder to his deshi, who was trailing close behind him. Kenshin blinked and shook his head briefly, to clear his head of his troubling thoughts.

"Sorry," he murmured, feeling a bit embarrassed. He hadn't realized he'd been spaced out long enough to attract his master's attention. Kenshin surveyed the town, and it took him a few minutes to realize that they were going further and further towards the outskirts of town.

"Seijuro-sama, are we going home already?" Kenshin asked, wishing he could stay longer and explore it.

_Where did that come from…? Wait, what did he call me? _"What did you say?"

"Are we going ho—"

"No, no, what did call me?"

"Um…Seijuro-sama." Kenshin looked quizzically at his master. Had he perhaps said it wrong? "Isn't that your name?" he questioned.

"Yes, it is. But who told you?"

"Well, I heard the lady at the shop call you Seijuro-san, so…" Kenshin trailed off nervously, fearful that he had upset his master.

"Hmm, you're very observant, aren't you?" Hiko said with a smirk. Kenshin perked up at the small compliment, smiling.

"I expect you to call me Shishou from now on though. It is the proper way to address your master," Hiko stated. "However, I suppose there is no harm in you knowing my full name, since I _am_ your master now. It's Hiko Seijuro. The thirteenth."

"Wow!" Kenshin walked up beside his master, his eyes twinkling. "There are twelve other Hiko Seijuro's in your family?" Hiko merely chuckled, which caused Kenshin to frown. What was so funny?

"No, no, Kenshin. Hiko Seijuro is the name passed down to each new inheritor of the Mitsurugi style. That name will also be passed down to you when you master it some day."

"Oh…" Kenshin wasn't sure if he wanted to inherit that title. One name change seemed enough for one lifetime. He thought on the matter more, until a question popped into his head. "But wait. Won't people be confused between all the masters if they all have the same name?" Kenshin asked, his young mind full of so many questions.

_They won't have that problem, Kenshin…but you wouldn't understand…_ "I suppose so," Hiko finally said, surprising himself with his answer. He wasn't the type who'd hide things from people, no matter how unpleasant. He believed in telling people the honest truth, and he would certainly do that when it came to teaching the child about the true nature of kenjutsu and satsujen-ken. But not now…if Kenshin knew the truth about what really happened to the old masters of the Mitsurugi style, he would most likely refuse to train with him. Yes, it was better not to tell him at all.

Kenshin nodded, feeling proud of himself for his keen observation. He fell back behind his master, for he was finding it difficult to keep up with the samurai's long strides. As they neared the edge of town, they approached a sake bar, which two men and a woman had just come out of. The lady was being harassed by the two drunkards, who where attempting to ravish her.

"Let me go!" she cried helplessly, but a strong dirty hand placed over her mouth soon muffled her cries.

"You'll enjoy this, so don't be upset!" The stocky one said as he reached for her kimono to pull it back. There was hardly anyone in this part of town, and the ones in the sake bar were far too drunk to even notice what was going on. And even if some of them did, they wouldn't have had any reason to stop the men from taking pleasure in the female. She had come to the bar alone, and that was her problem. So of course the men wouldn't hold back, for there would be no one to see. No one to see, but the master of the Mitsurugi style, that is.

"Bastards," Hiko growled with his teeth clenched. He set down the food he'd just purchase and lunged forward to stop the obscenity from taking place. Hiko thought he heard Kenshin cry out his name as he drew his sword, but that didn't matter now. He separated the men from the young woman with two powerful Kuzu-ryūsen, being careful not to injure the woman in the process. He had reversed his blade on purpose, for he didn't wish to shed more blood than was necessary, especially in broad daylight. He would give the men one chance to run, for he was a fair man after all, but if indeed they decided to fight him, he would not hold back.

Kenshin stared in awe at the demonstration of Kuzu-ryūsen. His master's movements were so fast, if he had blinked, he would have missed the movement entirely. The night when Hiko had saved his life, his back was turned, and he didn't catch the samurai's movements at all. So _this_ was what Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu really was. _No wonder Shishou said it takes much physical strength and endurance._

The woman, seeing her opportunity for escape dashed down the street, too daunted by what almost took place to even look back to see how the battle would turn out. The two drunkards scowled with a venomous hatred at the tall samurai, for they were still too stunned to move correctly to chase after the girl. Hiko glanced in the direction the girl was heading, then frowned. The girl was most likely going to tell the police, and that would only mean trouble. He had no desire to answer any questions for the police, so it would be best if he left immediately. He beckoned for Kenshin to follow him with a nod in the child's direction, but after only walking about two steps, he was stopped by the raspy voice of one of the men.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" The taller of the two drawled, for his voice was slurred from the affect of the alcohol. The two men slowly stood up, blood staining their now torn clothes where the nine strikes had hit. They didn't seem intimidated in the slightest by Hiko's obvious physical advantage, and didn't even seem scared at the fact that they had been struck at the nine pressure points in less than a few seconds. They drew their weapons simultaneously, and stood side by side.

"You made us lose something precious to us," the short and stocky one said, his partner nodding in agreement.

"Precious?" Hiko mocked. "So you rape your precious ones?" Hiko slid his sword back into its sheath to prepare for battōjutsu.

"Shut up!"

"I'll give you one chance. Leave now, and you won't die." Kenshin was scared now. The men were certainly vile and squalid, but they hadn't killed anyone. Why would they have to die?

"Like hell I'm leaving! Ichiro! Leave this guy to me." The taller man sprinted forward, and brought up his arms for a downward strike.

The blow would never make contact.

There was a burst of light, and the deafening high-pitched sound of the blade scraping again the inside of the sheath. Hiko's arm was merely a blur, and the man was not even given a moment to scream before he was sliced in half across his waist. The crimson blood spurted out in all directions, saturating the dirt and leaving small puddles where rainwater would have normally gathered. The man's bowels had fallen out completely, and were soaking in their own blood. It was a gruesome sight, but Hiko had been merciful, for he'd made the death quick and virtually painless.

Ichiro looked down at the detached torso of his friend, and his knuckles tightened around his weapon, turning them white. With a screeching war cry he ran up with his sword, ready to avenge his dead friend. However, his stance was wobbly and his stride unsteady because of the amount of sake he had drunken, and so he ended up with the same fate as his friend. Not that it really would have mattered if Ichiro's stance was wobbly or not, for he still would have been no match for the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu Master.

Hiko morbidly wiped his blade on the ronin's hakama before sliding it back into its sheath. He did not enjoy killing, but neither did he regret it when he did. It was certainly a nessesary thing during this hell called the Bakumatsu, when the Shogunate couldn't even keep its city streets safe from the lowly swine that stumbled out it's bars. Hiko was almost certain that if he had let the men live, they would only get drunk again and attempt to take liberties with some other woman, perhaps even killing her afterwards. Hiko sighed wearily. _These are truly times of trouble. _

It was only then that he remembered Kenshin, and so he turned around to see if the child was all right.

"Kenshin…" The young child was kneeling next to the detached torso of one of the ronin, trembling slightly. His eyes were hollow, and his gi was stained with blood. Crimson specks dotted his pale his face and his arms, so much so that it appeared he was the one who was bleeding. He appeared to be staring into the still-open eyes of the ronin, his expression blank.

"Kuso," Hiko mumbled. He'd never thought about what effect the killings would have on the child. Quite frankly, he didn't think it would have had much of an impact on him, for he had already been subject to so much carnage and had been constantly surrounded by death. "Kenshin. Let's go," he said slowly, his voice softer than usual.

No response.

He stepped over one of the corpses and knelt next to his deshi, his expression somber.

"Kenshin." Hiko placed a firm hand on the boy's shoulder, and Kenshin snapped out of his trance with a jerk. He looked at his master and blinked, his eyes, searching, confused, and almost, fearful?

Hiko sat back on his heels, and waited for the child to speak. Kenshin said not a word, but turned to the side and vomited. He coughed up everything his small stomach had held, the violent spasms rocking his tiny frame. It was a normal reaction, but Hiko certainly hadn't expected it—not from Kenshin. It didn't appear as thought the child had reacted to the dead bodies he'd buried not long before, but then again, that wasn't really for Hiko to say, for he had left almost immediately after killing the ronin.

Hiko sighed deeply, then warily placed a calloused hand on Kenshin back, caressing it as the child's last convulsions died out. Hiko had to hold out his arm to prevent his deshi from falling face down into the mess, for the child had also conveniently passed out.

Hiko grunted in annoyance as he slung the limp body over his shoulder. He had planned to bury the bodies, but now that wasn't an option. Hiko cursed as he saw an entire squad of police hurrying up the street. So now, of all times, they decided to show up! They were a good 30 feet away, but they were close enough to be able to recognize Hiko if they saw him again. He certainly wouldn't be able to show his face in that town again for quite some time—but then again, that was what Kenshin was for.

All these thoughts raced through the samurai's mind as he sprinted out of town and began his way up the mountain. It would be about half an hour before he reached the cabin, but he would have outrun the police unit by then. He took one powerful leap and landed on the other side of a stream, all the while keeping up his powerful stride. He adjusted Kenshin a bit, for it was becoming a bit uncomfortable. It wasn't that Kenshin was too heavy, in fact the child was very light, but something in Kenshin's gi was jabbing up against his shoulder. He decided to worry about it later, and so he hurried on.

He glanced back to find that the police were gaining, despite his god-like speed. He'd overestimated himself. He hadn't had breakfast yet, and his stride was being encumbered by the weight of the food he'd just bought and the weight—though small—of the child. He finally decided to give up using the mountain path, for it took many turns, which would delay him time. He instead resorted to the forest, where he knew it would be hard for the police to spot him.

A protruding branch snagged his cloak, and then reached into his skin, scraping him. It didn't hurt much, for it was just a scratch, but it annoyed him nonetheless, and he growled.

This was another situation to add to his long list of reasons to hate crowds, and human contact in general. Whenever he left his mountain, something bad always happened.

Hiko took a quick glance behind him to find that the police were _still_ chasing him. He sighed and shifted the child on his shoulder. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far! I bet some of you are wondering, "When are they going to start training?" Well don't worry, I'll probably have them start next chapter, and for the latest the 5th chapter. Anyway, please leave a review, and let me know what you guys think. I probably won't be able to update for about a month because I'm going on vacation soon, but I'll post the next chapter as soon as possible. ^_^


	4. Chapter 4: Training Begins

Hello! Sorry I took so long to update this chapter, I've been on vacation ever since school got out. But I'm back, so expect updates to come much sooner! And I finally figured out how to use the page divider, so I dont have to keep using the O's and 0's! Anyway, I hope you enjoy my 4th chapter! (And thanks Kaylendra for the beta reading.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or anything else of value for that matter…

* * *

It was hot. _Very_ hot.

He hated heat, just like he always had. Hiko cursed the heat that made him sweat, and whatever kami it was that decided to bring summer a month early.

Hiko sat with his legs crossed on his log, sipping his Sake. After all that had happened in the marketplace, he sure needed it. The police had chased him halfway up the mountain, and now he wouldn't be able to show his face in that town again for quite a while. And then Kenshin…he was another story. He'd taken him into the cabin and laid him on the futon, then washed off all the blood and dirt. After that he scrubbed Kenshin's bloodstained gi, trying to get the stains out as best as he could. He'd forgotten to purchase a training gi for Kenshin in the marketplace, so the boy would have to use his old one for now.

Hiko then remembered something he'd confiscated from the child. He pulled out a wooden top from his gi, and out of curiosity examined the small wooden toy. The paint was chipped in a few places, and the string that was wrapped around the toy was worn thin. It was obviously very old. '_So this is what was jabbing up against my shoulder…apparently he didn't want to part with it for even a few hours. Although for the life of me I can't figure out why…' _Hiko stuck the wooden top back into his gi after a minute or so, then stood up and put a hand up to his forehead to shade his eyes from the bright noonday sunlight.

It was about time he checked on his deshi to see if he'd woken up yet. Hiko stepped in the cabin, and then kneeled next to Kenshin's futon. The child was still; except for his slow breathing that slightly raised the blanket every time he inhaled.

Hiko dipped a small rag in a bowl of cool water, and upon wringing it so that it would no longer drip, placed it on his deshi's warm forehead. Hiko wasn't sure if it was the burning heat that made the boy's skin warm, or if it was a fever. Either way, he didn't want to take any chances, especially when he had been hoping to start Kenshin's training in the afternoon.

Kenshin didn't know signs of waking anytime soon, which would give the samurai some time to think—something he really needed to do now that he had a kid to take care of.

'_Okay. So I just adopted a traumatized ex-slave and told him I'd make him a Mitsurugi master. Sounds like a simple enough task...' _Hiko thought sarcastically. It would be a hard task, Hiko was sure, but a task that had to be done. But how exactly was he going to go about teaching the style to his deshi? He could try to mimic the way his master had taught him. Getting yourself whacked until you learned the move perfectly. The thought of seeing Kenshin thrown around amused the samurai, but Hiko wasn't sure if Kenshin would be able to handle the training. Kenshin's body wasn't built for the Mitsurugi style in the first place, and considering how frail the child was already, he might not be able to endure the harsh training required for the style.

Hiko was a year or two younger than Kenshin when he began training, but even back then, Hiko had been stronger, taller, and more heavily built. It certainly helped to be strong when practicing a style as physically demanding as the Mitsurugi style…but that couldn't be helped right now. Hiko _was_ training Kenshin and Kenshin _would_ be strong. His physical body would definitely suffer damage, but at this point in time, it didn't matter. Kenshin's spirit was what Hiko wanted to train the most. Hiko also had to admit that Kenshin had the strongest and purest ken ki he had ever seen—Perhaps with training it might even become stronger than his own. (Well, maybe not _that_ strong.) That was why "Kenshin" was the perfect name for his new apprentice. And as far as Hiko was concerned, as long as Kenshin put his mind to it, he would be able to over come any physical disadvantages. '_Although I'll still have to push his body to it's limits. His _spirit_ is definitely strong, but…' _

Hiko noticed a drop of blood on the child's pale cheek, and removed the rag from Kenshin's forehead to gently wipe it off.

Carnage and death were no strangers to this child, but…he wasn't ready to kill. The kid was barely ten years old. How could he possibly be ready? He'd picked up a katana in an effort to protect those girls—the ones who ended up saving his life—but would he have been able to go through with it? Hiko doubted it. He was just a child trying to live in an adult world—a world that would take advantage of him, and steal away his innocence for selfish reasons. That's why Kenshin needed this training. Not only so that he could defend his physical self, but his spirit as well.

Hiko smirked. "You've got me worried about you and I've only known you a day." Hiko said to his deshi, although he knew the child was still fast asleep on the futon. Hiko let out a small sigh, and for the first time in a while, felt bored. He slowly stood up and picked up his sword, deciding he would practice his kata. It would clear his mind of all his troubling thoughts and set him at ease.

Sliding the shoji open, Hiko stole one final glance at his deshi before heading outside. Hiko slid his katana out of its sheath, the sharp silver blade being slowly revealed. The blade began to glow a bright yellow, reflecting the noonday sunlight. Sliding into his first stance, Hiko gripped the katana with both hands; his legs shoulder width apart. Then slowly, with fluid-like movements, he shifted from stance to stance, his glowing blade going up, down, around, and back again.

Slowly he started to gain speed, each new movement faster than the one that came before it. Block. Parry. Dodge. Slash. Thrust. The invisible opponent slashed at Hiko's side. The master jumped ten feet into the air, somersaulted, then landed with a dodge roll. He quickly got to his feet and began a series of multiple attacks, each one aiming for a different part or the body. He then quickly pivoted his foot, twisting his body around and bringing the blade around in a full circle. Had it been an actual battle, at that moment the opponent's head would have flown off.

Hiko of course didn't stop there. He quickly sheathed the sword and jumped into the air, preparing for a mid-air battojutsu. The blade was unsheathed so fast that the sound of the blade scraping against the sheath was a few moments behind. Landing with another dodge roll, Hiko got into his feet once again and began a series of complex forms and stances, his speed gaining tremendously, until he was only a blur, and the blade was a flaming torch dancing wildly through the air. Hiko began to lose sense of what was going on around him, for all of his concentration was on the kata and nothing else. The blade became Hiko's arm, a sharp and lethal extension of his limb.

As the kata came closer to it's end, he began to sense a familiar ki watching him. He decided to ignore it, and finish the remainder of the kata. He gradually slowed down, and as he got into the final few stances, he moved in an exaggerated slowness. He breathed deeply as he finally sheathed the blade, then turned towards the cabin, where Kenshin had been standing, watching with awe.

"So you're finally awake?" Hiko walked up to his deshi, who was still gaping at the display of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. "You can close your mouth, unless you want some bird to make a nest in there." Hiko said casually as he slid open the shoji door. Kenshin stepped in and closed the door behind him before running up to his master to talk about what he had just seen.

"That-that was amazing!" Kenshin burst out, unable to contain his awe any longer.

"And…?" Hiko countered, suggesting that Kenshin should expect nothing less from a master as perfect as he. Kenshin merely raised an eyebrow at his master's supercilious remark.

"What you saw was the 6th level of the kata. You'll probably learn in the next year or so—although it won't come close to mine of course." Kenshin was beginning to realize how narcissistic his master was. Although it did amuse him in a way, he was sure that after a while it would turn out to be annoying.

Hiko suddenly placed a hand on Kenshin's forehead, noticing that it was much cooler than before. He probably didn't have a fever, but he had to make sure.

"So, how are you feeling?" Hiko asked. The question caught Kenshin by surprise, for it wasn't very often people asked him that.

"Okay. I guess…" Kenshin replied quietly with his eyes downcast, trying not to recall the images of the ronin's corpses. If he did, he might get sick again. And the blood…

"Hey." Kenshin looked up at his master, his eyes reflecting clearly the horrors he'd seen earlier that day. "About this morning—"

"I'm so sorry master." Kenshin sobbed, breaking the eye contact he'd held with his master.

_Say what?_

"I shouldn't have—I mean—I was weak and you're probably mad at me because I'm not strong enough to be a—"

"Stop it!" Hiko ordered, his booming voice stopping the child's apology immediately. Kenshin's eyes were brimming with tears, and he only looked up wide-eyed at his master. "Why the hell would I be angry with you!" Hiko _was_ angry, not with the child though, but with himself. He'd been stupid enough to brutally kill two men in front of a nine-year-old and now the kid was apologizing for having a normal reaction? No. That wasn't acceptable at all.

Kenshin was frightened now. He'd never seen his master this angry before, and it was scary. But wait. Did his master just say he wasn't angry with him? Then why was he yelling? Did he do something wrong by trying to apologize? This was all too confusing for the redhead to understand, so all he could do was stare.

"I'm the one who should be—!" Hiko cut himself off after finally realizing the shocked expression on his deshi's face. '_Kuso…I must have scared him half to death…_'Hiko crouched down to Kenshin's height, this time his face somber and calm. He lowered his voice, and spoke in a soft tone so as not to upset the child anymore.

"Kenshin. When you learn swordsmanship, you're going to kill so others may live. That won't change. But I guess…" Hiko shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't used to making speeches like this. "I guess I forget sometimes that you're just a kid. So…I'm sorry you had to see what happened this morning. I hope you know that." Kenshin nodded, feeling a bit awkward. He wasn't used to receiving apologies from anyone, for he was usually the one giving them. "And I don't think you're weak." Hiko added as he stood up to his normal height. Hiko considered adding that Kenshin had one of the strongest and purest ki he'd ever seen, but he didn't want to flatter the child too much. Besides, what he'd said to the kid was already enough, for those were the words Kenshin needed to hear.

"But…master…you said that I would have to kill for other's to live. What if…"

"What if what?" uncorked his Sake jar, then poured some Sake in a small clay cup.

"Well…what if there was way to protect other people without killing?" Hiko held the cup he was about to drink from up to his mouth for a few moments before setting it back down again.

"It isn't that simple, Kenshin. Some with have to die so others will live. That is one truth you can't ever change."

"But master—the people you killed…they…they didn't kill anyone. The girl was already gone so you didn't have to—" Kenshin put his hand up to his mouth to stop himself. It was out of place for him to tell his master what he should do or should have done. Had he tried telling that to his previous master, he would have received a harsh beating.

"I didn't have to kill them you mean? Look, Kenshin, don't be afraid to tell me your opinions. You're not a slave anymore."

"Yes, Master." Kenshin murmured, feeling a little embarrassed. Hiko sighed deeply, for he was feeling like he still hadn't gotten his point across.

"Let me ask you something. Those slavers. Should I have spared them?"

"No—! I mean, well I don't…I'm not…" His voice faded out, for he was unable to answer the question. Surely he was glad they were gone, but…

"Kenshin." Hearing his name pulled the boy away from his thoughts, and back to what Hiko was saying. "You're training to become a samurai. The way of the sword is the way to kill. No matter what pretty ways you try to disguise it, this is its true nature. Lives will be lost for the safety of others. Even if the people you kill are evil, they are human beings. As a swordsman you will live with that guilt for the rest of your life." Hiko's tone became lower. "But the one thing that makes it worth it is knowing that you saved a person's life. 'You kill so others may live.'" Hiko looked Kenshin straight in the eyes, trying to make sure Kenshin understood him clearly. "That is Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu!"

It was completely silent for about a minute after that, until Hiko finally spoke.

"I'm not forcing you into this. If you don't want to train, then you can go to the village and live there."

"No! I—I _do_ want to protect people! I…I want to stop all the suffering that I see, and I want to be able to protect the people that I care about."

"But are you willing to kill?" Kenshin paused before answering, for the answer he gave would decide his future as a samurai. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"I promise that as long as I have a sword in my hands, I will never let someone I care about die in front of me ever again. And If I have to kill to stop suffering…then I will not hesitate to do it." Then Kenshin looked Hiko square in the eye. "Master Hiko, I wish to be instructed in the way of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu!"

Hiko looked at the now beaming child with a look of satisfaction. Yes, he had most definitely chosen the right apprentice. His shyness would soon melt away and be replaced by fierce determination.

"Those are some big words for such a squirt. Well, we'll just have to see what you're made of." Hiko pulled a sword from off of a shelf, then beckoned for Kenshin to follow him outside. He tossed the weapon to the redhead, who found its weight a bit startling at first. Then he looked up at his master, his entire body radiating a strong determined ki. Hiko smirked, then slowly pulled out his sword from its sheath.

"Draw your sword Kenshin, let's begin."

* * *

The samurai was on his way up the mountain.

His stride was as graceful as a feline's, and his dark eyes were full of bloodlust and murderous intentions. He placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon in anticipation, and a burst of adrenaline coursed through his body, speeding up his heart rate and respiration.

The sun was still high in the sky, a sky that was devoid of all clouds, or moisture for that matter. The samurai was wary of the sunlight though, for he preferred darkness for traveling. It cloaked him from any unwanted travelers and any possible confrontations.

'_I suppose that can't be helped right now…'_ The samurai thought as he continued up the mountain path. This was his only chance to find out where Hiko lived, or at least where he was headed. The young samurai had of course kept himself at a safe distance so he wouldn't be discovered, and had decided to wait a bit before pursuing. He was an excellent tracker, so it wasn't long before he found the trail left behind by the police who had mercilessly cut down protruding branches and such to allow room for the entire squad to pass through the narrow path.

As for why the town's police force had been chasing Hiko, the samurai couldn't tell. All he'd seen was a group of policeman running out of town, and so only out of curiosity, he decided to follow. Soon after, he saw whom they had been pursuing. None other than Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth with a tiny red-haired child slung over his shoulder. Perhaps Hiko had kidnapped the child and the police were trying to get him back. The young samurai had seen Hiko with the child sometime earlier in the marketplace, so maybe He'd decided to snatch the child and run. He wouldn't put it past Hiko to do that.

The samurai leaped over a stream, then used one hand to steady his landing before pouncing back up and continuing up the mountain. '_Not that it really matters.'_ The samurai thought to himself. _Hiko's the one I'm dealing with, not the kid.'_ The samurai wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, wishing once again that it was nighttime so he wouldn't have to deal with the burning heat the sun brought. He hated heat. Winter had always been his favorite season, even as a child.

The samurai suddenly smirked at the irony of his next thought. Hiko had liked winter best as well.

* * *

Well, I promised that Kenshin would start his training in this chapter, which he sorta did. Hehe… Well, anyway, next chapter Mr. Mysterious Samurai Dude will be meeting up with Hiko, and poor Kenshin will have his training interrupted. (I'm so evil!) Also, You'll see me switch back and forth with Japanese and English terms (ie Master/Shishou, Apprentice/deshi) So I hope this doesn't confuse anyone. If it does, then let me know. :)

And on another random note, I just recently saw The Last Samurai. Let me tell you, it's an awesome movie. (But why did that really cute guy have to die halfway through the movie?!) And did anyone else notice that the relationship between Kenshin and Tomoe was very similar to that of Nathan and Taka? Just a thought.

Oh, and please review!


	5. Chapter 5: The Visitor

Okay, I know it's been a while since my last update…three months maybe? I had an intense writers block, and this chapter remained unwritten until about a week ago. So, anyway, I don't want to hold you guys any longer, so go ahead and read!

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

"Faster!" Hiko commanded of his young pupil who was now glistening with sweat, contemplating just how much faster he could swing the katana before his arms fell off. The katana felt like it was getting heavier with each swing, but Kenshin nonetheless attempted to increase the speed of his strokes, his arms burning from the effort. It hadn't taken long for Hiko to teach him how to hold the sword properly, and from there he'd gone straight into practicing downward swings—1000 of them—to get the "feel" of the katana. Kenshin had begun panting once he'd reached 100, and had now completely lost track. He was pretty sure he'd gotten the "feel of the katana" when his arms started to go numb—However, he dared not complain, for he didn't exactly feel like facing the wrath of Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth at the moment, especially when he was in the possession of a katana of his own.

"I said, faster!" Hiko sat with his legs crossed on his favorite log, calmly sipping the sake that he had ordered Kenshin to bring out for him.

"Hai." Kenshin said breathily, clearly exhausted. Hiko watched Kenshin struggle through a few more strokes before setting his sake down with a sigh and walking over to his deshi to stop him.

"Baka, you've let your form slip, that's why it's getting harder for you to swing the sword properly." Hiko pulled back the child's legs to widen his stance, then sat back on the log. "Give me 50 perfect swings, then we're moving on."

"Hai Shishou." Kenshin started over with renewed strength and determination, ignoring his sore muscles as the anticipation of learning something new drove him on.

Hiko watched his new apprentice carefully, a smile tugging on his lips. '_He has good eyes.' _He observed as he leaned forward with interest. The shyness and overall submissive demeanor of the child appeared to have completely vanished as he held the sword, for the desire to be stronger and protect others seemed to be enough to rid the child of those qualities, at least for now. Hiko knew it would take a while before Kenshin got comfortable around him and stopped acting like he was his slave and not his apprentice, but Hiko was hopeful. Kenshin's ki was pure and strong, and although he'd been through a lot for a child his age, he had pulled through somehow, and although Hiko would never admit it, he admired that about the child. He could only imagine what type of swordsman Kenshin would grow up to be.

"I'm finished!" The beaming child said as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He stood there panting for a few moments, not moving, waiting for a nod, a smile, anything that would show his master's approval. Hiko of course didn't notice this was what the child wanted at all—he had never considered himself a people's person—and instead, set his clay cup down on the log, then picked up his katana and stepped forward, unsheathing it.

"Now that you've finished your warm-up, it's about time we started your _real_ training." Kenshin looked down dejectedly at the ground, not because he was exhausted and felt he'd done enough training for one day, but because his master had failed to acknowledge him—not that he really should have expected it, for the only people who had really given him praise for his work had been his parents. But still, he _had_ hoped…

"What? You'd better get used to training like this. You'll have to do at least 1,000 practice swings everyday before we begin the lesson."

"No, it's not that, it's—" Kenshin stopped himself; suddenly realizing how foolish he was being, getting upset over such a trivial thing. "Never mind." Hiko raised an eyebrow, but decided to let the matter go.

"Anyway," Hiko cleared his throat. "You will now learn and memorize the different parts of the body where sword strikes are aimed. Karatake, kesagiri, reverse kesagiri…" Hiko used his sword to point to each part of Kenshin's body as he named the target areas. "And then finally, tsuki." Hiko pointed the sword directly at the read-head's chest, and then let his arm drop to his side. "Every sword move you will ever learn is aimed at one of these nine places. Understand?"

"Hai, wakarimasu." Kenshin replied confidently, for he had already memorized them.

"Since you say you understand, show me." Hiko said sarcastically, not really expecting the child to have caught on _that_ fast. But when Kenshin pointed to each target his master had showed him and listed the names of them correctly, it would have been an understatement to say that Hiko was surprised.

"Hmph." Hiko eyed his deshi skeptically, hiding his amazement with an expression of indifference. _'Feh, I'm just a great teacher, that's why he learns so fast…' _Hiko assured himself, still unwilling to believe that Kenshin had caught on so fast when he he'd had to ask his master to repeat himself a few times to memorize them back when he'd first started his training.

"Was I…wrong?" Kenshin asked hesitantly after his master had remained silent for almost a minute.

"No, Baka. I taught you, didn't I?" Kenshin sweat dropped, for now his master's arrogance really was beginning to annoy him. "Well, since you've got that part down, lets move on to the basic attacks." Kenshin's eyes lit up at hearing that, and he completely forgot his annoyance with his master's haughty remark.

"First, we'll start with the attacks to the karatake, since you've already practiced downward strokes." Kenshin nodded and slipped back into his stance, holding the katana in front of him with both hands just as his master had taught him.

"Now attack." Hiko ordered simply as he held the katana in front of him.

"Huh?" Kenshin looked up with a mixture of surprise and confusion at his master, lowering his sword. Surely his master didn't mean for him to attack with a real katana? Considering how inexperienced he was with the sword, he could easily slip up and end up hurting his master—or worse. That was not a risk Kenshin wished to take at all, for he had witnessed first hand what the deadly blade of the katana could do. Hiko noticed that Kenshin was hesitant, and assumed that the child was simply intimidated.

"I know you probably won't reach my head, but you could at least try." Hiko said, but when Kenshin still didn't move, Hiko finally realized what was troubling the child. _'He thinks he's going to hurt me…'_ The idea almost made Hiko laugh, but he somehow managed to suppress his amusement to barely a smile, knowing that laughing would only make the situation worse. "I'm a master, Kenshin. Do you think that I'd honestly let myself get killed by a nine-year-old who barely knows how to hold a sword?" Kenshin looked down at his feet, looking a bit hurt—something that Hiko noticed immediately. '_Okay, maybe that wasn't the best thing to say…'_ "Look." Hiko's voice became softer, and he took a step towards his pupil. "I know what I'm doing." Kenshin still refused to make eyes contact, and now Hiko was started to get a little annoyed. "Can't you trust me enough to know that I won't let myself get killed?" Hiko said in a tone that suggested that any answer not in the affirmative was ludicrous. Kenshin finally looked up with an expression of surprise at his master, for he hadn't considered that.

"I do." Kenshin said softly after a long silence. He shifted uncomfortably where he stood, his feet tracing a line in the dirt. Hiko still wasn't convinced.

"Do what?"

"Trust you. I do trust you." Kenshin said a little louder this time as his fidgeting stopped and he gripped the katana tighter.

"Then show me." Kenshin nodded and got back into his stance, preparing himself to attack. He took a deep breath, and then ran forward with all his might to his master.

"Haaa!" Kenshin jumped into the air and raised his sword for a downward strike, but hesitated slightly at the last moment, lessening the power of his strike to about half. Hiko easily deflected the blow, sending Kenshin crashing to the ground ten feet away. Hiko looked angrily at his deshi, who was lying sprawled on the ground, panting.

"Baka! That was terrible!" Kenshin sat up slowly and rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly—both from the pain at the base of his skull, and his master's remark.

"Do it again. And this time, no—holding—back." Kenshin stood up, keeping his eyes carefully averted from his master's piercing gaze. He hadn't expected his master to actually notice that he had weakened his attack, but then again, he _was_ a master, and not one that Kenshin would probably ever be able to outsmart anytime soon. "You can't expect to improve if you don't put your all into everything you learn, _including_ how to attack an opponent properly. Baka." Hiko sighed, "I told you to trust me, didn't I?" Kenshin nodded.

"Gomenasai, Shishou. It won't happen again." Hiko nodded, but couldn't help but feel that Kenshin was saying that out of fear, and not out of a desire to become stronger—for that small incident had brought Kenshin right back to his total submissive behavior for a moment. Hiko decided to shrug it away for now, for at least Kenshin _had_ shown some of his swordsman spirit earlier, and that was an improvement in and of itself.

"Whenever you're ready." Kenshin nodded and got back into his stance. He took a deep breath and was about to charge when Hiko interrupted him sharply. "Wait." Kenshin blinked and looked up at his master with confusion. Hiko eyes were distant, looking off into the trees. Then, without looking at Kenshin, he spoke. "Get inside, Kenshin, and stay out of sight." Hiko's voice was very low, and his eyes were narrowed dangerously, his body rigid.

"What's—"

"Now!" Hiko commanded in a harsh whisper as he turned his fierce gaze from the trees to his deshi, who started at the harshness in his master's voice. After a moment of hesitation, he clumsily sheathed his sword and ran inside the cabin and slid the door shut, breathing heavily behind the rice paper door. Once he caught his breath, his curiosity got the best of him and he slid the door open just enough to allow one amethyst eye to peek through.

His master was completely still, his senses clearly on high alert. Then Kenshin saw his master turn his head sharply to the mountain path that they had taken earlier, holding his sword up, ready to attack at any moment. It was only then that Kenshin noticed the sound of footsteps coming closer, and the slight clinking of a daisho. Kenshin's eyes widened as a he saw a tall figure with dark piercing eyes and silky black hair step out from the forest and into the clearing. But it was that devious and yet curious smile that gave the man away. The samurai from town, the one who had been eyeing his master, the one who had mysteriously disappeared without a trace—he had followed them.

Kenshin gripped the hilt of his katana with a shaking hand, ready to draw it at a moments notice. He was scared, that much he would admit, but he had made a promise to protect those he cared about so long as he was holding a sword, and although he had only learned a basic downward stroke, he wouldn't hesitate to fight with only that move if the need came. He _did_ have confidence in his master's skills, but he hated the feeling of helplessness…watching those he cared about die in front of him while he simply stood there, unable to do anything…Kenshin shook his head violently, clearing himself of his troubling thoughts, then looked out of the shoji once more.

"Ryozo." Hiko whispered, his voice barely audible, his eyes narrowed into a death glare. The samurai's smile only widened, but neither said anything. They both seemed to be engaged in a staring contest, Hiko giving his harshest and fiercest glare, but the samurai merely smiling, brushing the older man's gaze aside, not intimidated in the slightest. Finally, it was Hiko who broke the silence.

"Get the hell off my mountain." Hiko growled, his voice still very low and deadly. Ryozo's smile faded and his brows furrowed together, however, he had no intention of leaving, but instead took a step forward, letting his hand rest on the hilt of his katana—a movement that Hiko noticed.

"I won't repeat myself. _Leave_." Hiko spoke slowly through his teeth, for it was taking all of his will power and strength to hold back from attacking the man, who hadn't budged an inch.

"Coward," Ryozo spat, all traces of humor gone from his face, for he was clearly getting annoyed with Hiko's behavior. "You owe me a duel." Ryozo slowly unsheathed his katana and held it readily in his hands.

"I owe you nothing." Hiko replied, his voice louder than before. Ryozo's expression took on an expression of complete shock, before rage set in and contorted the man's handsome features. However, before the samurai could argue, Hiko continued. "The last time we dueled, you lost miserably, and I was merciful enough to spare your pathetic life. I thought you'd learned your lesson back then and moved on with your life, but apparently not. I have no wish to fight you, a man—no, a boy, who has poisoned himself with the unhealthy ambition of a so-called half thought out form of revenge. You are a waste of my time, and supposing you did win—which we both know would be impossible—it would prove absolutely nothing." The samurai listened to Hiko with an expression of complete animosity, seething with anger and resentment at what he was hearing.

"Arrogant bastard! You _didn't_ kill me because you _couldn't_ kill me! What little bit of a conscience you had left would never have been able to deal with the guilt of killing the _both_ of us now would it?" He was almost shouting now, his once suave and nonchalant disposition completely dissipated as a result of his anger. Hiko tensed briefly at the samurai's accusation, but otherwise remained unperturbed, trying to remain as calm as possible.

"You're a fool." Hiko said softly after he allowed a minute to pass by, allowing Ryozo some time to calm down after his outburst. "If you've done nothing these past four years but plan your "revenge", you're even more of a baka than you were back then." Hiko sheathed his sword and turned around briskly to head for the cabin, for apparently the conversation was now officially ended. The samurai stood in the clearing for a few moments with his mouth slightly open and nostrils flaring, still not quite believing that Hiko had flat out denied him the duel that he had spent years training for.

Kenshin watched the scene unfold apprehensively with his hands till clutching the hilt of his katana, his heart racing. He saw his master approaching the shoji door, and was about to duck inside and hide before his master found out that he had been spying on them, when Kenshin saw something in his peripheral vision. The samurai was charging towards Hiko's turned back with the agility and swiftness of a cat. Kenshin's eyes were unable to follow the man's movements because of his speed, and Kenshin wondered if perhaps this man had been an assassin because he made no sound as he ran. Something suddenly clicked in Kenshin's mind, reminding him that the samurai was trying to kill Hiko and he should say something to alert his master of the oncoming blow. It was a moment before Kenshin's voice finally returned to him, and he was able to cry out to his master.

"Shishou!" Kenshin warned as he quickly slid the shoji door open all the way. Hiko of course had noticed that the samurai was running towards him, but had been planning to wait until the opportune time to turn around and deflect the blow. Kenshin's unexpected appearance however had startled him, and he was barely able to bring his sword up in time to stop the strike. The force of the impact blew both men back a few feet, and Hiko growled under his breath. He still refused comply to Ryozo's demands and fight, but was unsure how he could get out of this situation without doing so. _'Kuso…' _He murmured.

Neither one of the men moved at all, and it was completely silent, except for the sound of Kenshin's heavy breathing as a result of an adrenaline rush from the surprise attack of the young samurai. Kenshin stood in the doorway to the cabin still clutching his katana with his right hand. He stole a glance at Ryozo, who didn't seem to want to attack Hiko anymore, but was now studying Kenshin thoughtfully, his expression difficult to read.

"He called you Shishou." Ryozo said after a long silence, turning his attention to a fuming Hiko, whose expression was hard and livid. Ryozo took Hiko's silence as an opportunity to continue. "And here I thought you'd kidnapped him." Hiko remained silent, too enraged to even reply to the man's taunting remark. It appeared as if Ryozo's mood had changed entirely, his cool demeanor returning. His anger seemed to have gone away completely—perhaps charging Hiko had given him a chance to relieve him of it for the time being. "So," He sheathed his katana slowly, the slight "clink" echoing throughout the clearing. "You're passing on that damned style to some innocent child. It will be a pity for him to have to see his master die in front of him." Kenshin's eyes widened a fraction, but Hiko didn't flinch.

Ryozo turned around and started to walk out of the clearing and onto the mountain path, stopping to speak over his shoulder.

"Maybe not today, but you _will_ fight me. One way or another." And with that he continued out of the clearing and down path, leaving a frightened Kenshin and a furious Hiko behind. Hiko considered chasing after him, but decided against it, for Ryozo would definitely be back, and he had no intention of fighting the man if he didn't have to. It wasn't that Hiko doubted his ability to best the man in a fight—far from it—but Hiko feared that he would kill him if they did fight, and that was something Hiko wanted to avoid if possible. If Ryozo was going to be bent on revenge for the rest of his life, he would have to end the man's life to spare him of that miserable existence. However, if he could get Ryozo to find a different path in life other than devoting it to plotting the death of Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth, he would try the best that he could. This wasn't the type of thing Hiko was used to doing, and it frustrated him. It would simply be much easier to kill the man and be done with it, but Hiko knew that he could never do that, not after…

'_Stop it.'_ Hiko mentally berated himself for allowing his thoughts to stray in that direction. What he needed right now was some sake to quell his anger and allow himself some time to think. Hiko grabbed the sake jug on the log and stalked into the cabin, ignoring a wide-eyed Kenshin who quickly stepped aside to allow his master to come in.

"Shishou," Kenshin started, worry clear in is tone as he tried to get his master's attention to talk about the samurai who had paid them an unexpected visit.

"I though I told you to stay inside and out of sight!" Hiko said harshly as he turned around to face his deshi, upset that the child had put both of their lives in danger. Kenshin took a step back, taken aback by his master's sudden hostility. He lowered his eyes to the ground with his red bangs shrouding his eyes, suddenly looking like a slave again, for all of his determination had gone out from his ki, leaving him empty, and feeling ashamed.

"I'm sorry." He whispered softly, his eyes taking in all the details in the wooden floor, for he was trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. After a few moments, Hiko sighed deeply, dismissing the matter. He couldn't really blame the child—having a samurai show up out of no where and demand a death match with his master would have been more than enough reason to worry.

"It's alright." Hiko said after about a minute of complete silence had elapsed. "It's lunchtime anyway. We'll take a break and go back to training later." Kenshin looked up with surprise.

"But what about the samu—"

"Forget about the samurai." Hiko interrupted as he walked over to a corner of the room to find the sack of rice he had purchased earlier. "Don't worry about it. If he comes back here again, I'll break his arms and legs and drag him off the mountain." Hiko said all of this calmly as he poured some of the rice into a pot of water, then lit the stove underneath to start cooking the rice. He didn't appear angry anymore, just annoyed, as if the samurai was merely a nuisance and not a threat—but then again most samurai were when compared to Hiko Seijuro.

Kenshin decided to let the subject go, for clearly his master was finished talking about it. He considered telling his master that he had seen the samurai—Ryozo was his name—in the marketplace earlier, but he decided against it, figuring that that bit of information was not going to be of any help to anyone now. Sighing, he felt inside his gi for his top to play with to pass the time, but when he felt nothing, he panicked. '_No! I can't have lost it! Maybe when I fainted I dropped it…' _Kenshin felt his gi a second time just to make sure, but it was empty, except for the lollypop that Emiko had given him. He quietly started crawling around the cabin looking for it, checking under his futon, under his master's desk, and anywhere else a small wooden top might be able to roll under.

"Kenshin?" Hiko asked with a raised eyebrow as he stirred the rice, "What in God's name are you doing?" Kenshin froze in a half crouched position for a few seconds, then blushed and sat on the floor with his legs tucked under him.

"I…um…" Kenshin fumbled for the right words, not really wishing to tell Hiko that it was his top that he had been looking for. His master would surely think of it as a trivial thing and probably laugh about the fact that he was looking so fervently for it. "It's just that…well…I lost something." Kenshin fidgeted in his position, his eyes wandering around the room in a futile attempt to locate his top.

"Lost what?" Hiko said breathily. This child's shyness was trying his patience.

"…My top."

"That thing?" Hiko said unbelievingly, finding it almost amusing to see that Kenshin would get so upset over loosing a plain wooden top. "What, it is it sacred or something?" When Kenshin didn't reply but kept his gaze fixed to the floor, his small smile faded, and he reached into his gi to take out the toy.

"Don't get all upset. Here." Hiko handed the yellow top over for the child to take, who after a brief hesitation took it reverently.

"Thank you." Kenshin held the thing gingerly, as if it were made of glass and could break at any moment. He decided not to play with it, and so instead placed it right next to his futon, where it was in plain view. Hiko watched with curiosity, wondering what the significance of the old beat up top could be for him to have to take it with him wherever he went. Finally, he gave up guessing, and asked.

"Kenshin." Hiko began stirring the rice again. "Tell me. What is it you find so fascinating about that top of yours? It seems that you become agitated whenever you become separated from it for too long." Kenshin was startled at first at the question, but then his expression became somber, his voice soft.

"It was my older brother's. We used to play with it together—we made up a sort of game to play with it. It was fun." Kenshin's eyes were distant, his mind completely wrapped up in memories of the past. "We used to play it every night, but…when he got sick, he couldn't play anymore, but he said that we would play together as soon as he got better." His voice started to crack, but his face stayed emotionless, for he desperately didn't want to burst into tears in front of his master. He would never be able to take the embarrassment, and the idea of his master thinking of him as weak repulsed him.

"He was always a terrible liar." A single tear rolled down Kenshin's cheek despite his best efforts, but he hoped that his long bangs would conceal them from Hiko. He was wrong. But Hiko didn't say anything, but simply kept on stirring, not wishing the pry any further with questions, for he had already learned what he wanted to know, almost regretting that he had asked the child for he had unintentionally brought up painful memories from Kenshin's past.

For the next few minutes they both sat in silence, the only sound being the bubbling of the water in the pot as if reached its boiling point and began to cook the rice thoroughly. Hiko took a few gulps from his jug of sake, abandoning the thought of using the small clay cup.

"Hey." The read head looked up from his lap, the calling of his name ripping him from the thoughts of his late family whom he which he had been brooding over. Hiko set down the jug of sake before he continued, "good job today. With your training, I mean." Hiko commented, trying to lighten the mood of the young child, whose troubled ki had been washing over him like waves. Kenshin's mouth opened slightly for a few moments before widening into a smile. He blushed ferociously, his cheeks almost turning the color of his hair.

"Thank you, Shishou." Kenshin said sweetly. Hiko smirked, now realizing how easy it was to change the child's mood with a few simple words_. 'One minute he's depressed, and then blushing the next. This kid's something else…' _Hiko thought as he dished out two servings of the rice and put them into bowls. He handed Kenshin his serving as well as chopsticks, making sure to fill the bowl to its capacity—before starting on his own serving. Kenshin opened his mouth to protest to having to eat such a large amount of food, but Hiko interrupted him before he could even get the words out.

"You're eating all of it so don't even start." Kenshin shut his mouth, a little startled to find that his master had known exactly what he was going to say. Kenshin nodded feebly, wondering how on earth he was going to finish the huge amount of food. It wasn't until he'd begun to eat that he realized that he had been extremely hungry; the excitement (or rather fear) of the unexpected appearance of the samurai had distracted him from his aching body—and his nearly famished state. Hiko watched Kenshin out of the corner of his eye; the boy eating with such fervor that Hiko wondered why the boy hadn't choked on it yet.

"Slow down, baka. It's not going anywhere." Kenshin froze immediately, the chopsticks a few inches from his face, which was now turning red with embarrassment. There were small grains of rice stuck all on his chin and the corners of his mouth, contributing to the overall comical look on his face. He then began to eat the rice with exaggerated slowness, despite his ravaging hunger.

Hiko almost laughed, but the events of that day had dampened his mood considerably, and he didn't think he could laugh just yet. He would definitely have to do his kata again, to relieve all of his pent up stress. Both Hiko and Kenshin finished up the last of their rice, and just as Hiko was going to go outside to wash them, he thought of a better idea and smiled deviously.

"I've decided to assign you some chores. I can't have you staying here for free, now can I?" Kenshin suppressed a groan, knowing that if the training he'd gone through earlier that day was to continue, he would collapse before he got a chance to do any chores.

"First, you'll do dishes—which means you'll have to go to the river to get the water yourself—warm up the bath, do the cooking—if I decide that your food is edible—you'll chop the firewood…" Hiko counted on his fingers, thinking of every chore that he loathed doing, happy to be rid of those responsibilities. Hiko also knew that keeping Kenshin busy would give him less time to brood over the events of the past few days, and keep him from becoming depressed and withdrawn. If making the child dog-tired by the end of the day was the only way to prevent that, Hiko would be happy to do it—especially if it got him out of those dreaded chores. "Got it?"

"Hai, Shishou." Hiko blinked_. 'Not even a complaint? Don't kids hate doing chores? I know I did when I was his age…' _Then after a few moments Hiko mentally slapped himself. _'Of course…the kid was a slave. There's no way he'd ever disobey me, or even question my authority. Not that he shouldn't respect me, but this submissiveness just isn't healthy for a kid…especially one who's going to be a swordsman.' _Hiko decided to let the matter go for now, knowing that there wasn't really anything he could do about it—he would just have hope that along with training, the child would develop a mind of his own. _'Well, there's no point in me worrying about that now. It's about time we continued his training anyway.'_

Hiko grabbed his sword and slid open the shoji door stepping outside, but Kenshin just stared at him. "C'mon baka! It's almost noon, and we have a long way to go." Kenshin did groan this time, for his body was already sore from his exertions of that morning, but he nonetheless forced himself to stand, picking up his new katana with him. He walked out the door to meet his master, who was now standing in the middle of the clearing, the customary smirk curling his lips slightly.

Kenshin gulped.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

I know, this chapter's really long, but I felt that I should make it a little longer than usual, considering how long it's been since an update. Also, what did you think of how I did the appearance of the samurai? I tried to make his personality "cool" and "suave" but still able to get angry—something that was a bit difficult to do.

I've decided to add a little dictionary at the end of my chapters, since not everyone might know what all of the Japanese terms mean. Hope this helps!

Shishou: Master

Deshi: Apprentice

Hai: Yes

Wakarimasu: I understand (pronounced "wa-ka-ri-mas")

Baka: Idiot

Karatake: Sword strike aimed at the head

Kesagiri: Sword strike aimed at the left shoulder

Reverse Kesagiri: Sword strike aimed at the right shoulder


	6. Chapter 6: Baka Deshi

Hello! This update didn't take as long as the last one, so that's good, I guess. ^_^ I'll try to have this story updated once a month, (twice if I have time) so I hope you won't lose interest because of my slow updates. I'm a busy person, and just like any other writer I get writer's block constantly. Well anyway, enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer:If I owned Rurouni Kenshin, I would be writing episodes, not fanfiction.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to disappear on the edge of the horizon, and the warm light filtered through the forest, the tiny rays of amber peeking through the breaks in the canopy above. The rapidly approaching nightfall met Kenshin still trying to land a blow on his master—who was calmly standing in the middle of the clearing, casually taking a drink from his sake jug every once in a while. This only proved to make Kenshin even more furious, for it certainly would be agitating for anyone to try to seriously spar with someone, but that find that that person could just knock you aside every time, all the while consuming considerable amounts of alcohol.

Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of his face and his forehead, plastering his hair to his face and dripping into his eyes every so often. He blinked his eyes a few times to cleanse them of the salty perspiration, then took a deep breath, preparing to attack once again.

"Haaaa!" Kenshin ran forward with his katana raised, this time aiming for Hiko's left shoulder. Hiko lowered the sake jug from his lips with a sigh, then raised his sword with the other hand to deflect the strike, sending Kenshin flying back more than ten feet before crashing down to the hard earth. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him and struggled to catch his breath. "I-Itai…" He mumbled as he sluggishly rose to his feet, picking up the sword that had seemed to more than double its weight since his training had begun earlier that day. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, fighting against a sudden wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him. His entire body hurt—both from the numerous bruises and scratches he'd acquired, and from his sore and overworked muscles—however he dared not complain, because he knew that he _needed_ this training, and so any amount of discomfort he would endure, so long as it would help him become stronger and be able to fulfill his promise.

"Alright, stop it." Hiko said in exasperation, clearly very annoyed. "Did you already forget what I told you about how to fall properly?"

"I'm sorry Shishou…" Kenshin shifted slightly and looked nervously at the ground.

"Don't tell me you're sorry, do it properly! So far you've been lucky, but another unprotected fall like that and you could very easily end up breaking some bones. Understand?" Kenshin blinked slowly, then nodded his head. It looked as if everything Hiko had said had gone in one ear and out the other. Sighing in annoyance, Hiko readied his sword for his deshi's attack, not really expecting the child's falls to be any different from before. _'Well, I guess there's only one way to find out.' _"Again!" He prompted. Kenshin slipped back into his stance, and although he was swaying slightly, his eyes betrayed none of the exhaustion Hiko was sure the child was feeling. _'I've got to hand it to him,' _Hiko mused, _'It looks like he's ready to collapse and he's still going. Heh…well let's see just how long his endurance will take him. It can't be much longer though—we've been training for almost six hours straight since lunch.' _Hiko smirked. This baka of an apprentice certainly didn't know when to give up. Sooner or later that specific trait would be the death if him if he wasn't careful. It looked like as well as training him with the sword, he'd have to teach the baka a few lessons on common sense. It was important for one to know their limits and adhere to them, but so far from what Hiko had seen of Kenshin, he could tell that the child obviously didn't know the meaning of the word—and if he did but still kept on pushing himself, that would make him even more of a baka that he had originally thought...Kenshin seemed like the kind of person who would push himself until it killed him, and although that could be considered admirable by some, Hiko found it idiotic and stupid. You couldn't protect people when you were dead. It was as simple as that.

"Haaaa!" Kenshin ran forward once again, the decrease in his speed clearly visible. Hiko lifted his sword like before to deflect the strike, and this time when Kenshin fell to the ground, he didn't even brace himself for the impact. He hit the ground hard, stirring up a cloud of dust around him before it settled into his already dirty gi and his flaming hair.

"Baka! What did I just tell you! If you've broken something then don't expect me to—" Hiko stopped his rant once he noticed that Kenshin was still sprawled on the ground, his katana a few feet away from him. He hadn't gotten up yet. "Kenshin!" The child still remained unmoving despite Hiko's bellowing voice. "Kuso…" Hiko sheathed his sword with a sigh and walked over to where the boy had fallen, kneeling down next to the unconscious child. _'I didn't think he'd actually pass out. The little shrimp.'_ A moan escaped Kenshin as Hiko lifted him into his arms and carried him bridal style into to the cabin, shifting him slightly so that he could hold him with one arm while sliding the shoji open with the other. Once he stepped inside the cabin, he laid Kenshin down gently on his futon. Kenshin's eyes opened slightly at being moved, and he looked up at his master with a dazed expression.

"Shishou…" Kenshin murmured, "I didn't…do my chores…yet…" He fought to keep his eyes open, reluctant to fall asleep while there was work to be done.

"You can do them tomorrow." Hiko went outside to retrieve Kenshin's sword, then propped it up against the wall. "I can't have you chopping firewood while you're barely awake. You can't hope to learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu with an arm missing." Kenshin nodded absently and turned onto his side, wincing as he did so. Hiko frowned. _'If he's this sore already, I can't imagine how he'll feel tomorrow…I guess I should make sure he's alright.' _"Kenshin," Hiko tapped the child on the shoulder, attempting to wake him.

"Hmm…"

"Sit up and take off you're gi, I have something that should help with the pain, and stop all those scratches from getting infected."

"M'not…in pain…" Kenshin mumbled as he struggled to sit up, trying in vain to hide his discomfort.

"Sure you aren't." Hiko said sarcastically as he walked over to his desk, where he rummaged through some drawers to find the salve.

'_Here it is.'_ Hiko took the small jar of the greenish tinted cream and sat down cross-legged behind his deshi, who although was sitting up, appeared to be dozing.

"Oi! Kenshin!" Hiko snapped his fingers in front of Kenshin's face, which woke the child with a start. "I said, take off your gi." Hiko then began the task of unscrewing the lid—which he'd obviously put on way to tight—while he waited for the child to undress. It took Kenshin's brain a few moments to process what his master had told him to do, but once he did, he groggily slipped out of the sleeves of his gi, letting it fall around his waist, still tucked into his hakama.

"Now, this will sting a li—" Hiko stopped in midsentence as he looked up from the jar he was holding and got a good look at Kenshin's exposed back. He muttered a curse through ground teeth, his body shaking with anger. Those slavers…there was no doubt about it—

The boy had been flogged.

There were scars, at least 30 of them, crisscrossing like snakes across his back and reaching even up to his shoulders, the pinkish-red color contrasting with the child's porcelain complexion. They were raised from his skin, and the limited light in the cabin casting dark shadows on the scars only proved to accentuate them even more. '_How could I not have noticed this?!' _Hiko berated himself angrily, _'When I took off his gi this morning to clean it I should have seen them! I know it was dark, but…kuso. If I knew about them I wouldn't have started his training today. Some of them look like they haven't fully healed yet…'_

Kenshin turned around to look at his master, wondering why he'd suddenly stopped in the middle of his sentence. Hiko was sitting cross legged behind him with the open jar of salve in his hands, his expression a mixture a rage, confusion, and shock. It was only then that Kenshin realized what his master was staring at—his scars. He momentarily forgot about his drowsiness and quickly put his arms back through the sleeves of his gi, embarrassed and ashamed. How could he have forgotten about the scars? Kenshin shut his eyes tightly against the onslaught of memories that threatened to overwhelm him--

_Kenshin held his breath as he heard the whip whiz through the air, only to land with a deafening crack on his bare skin, carving a strip of blood down his back. The pain was excruciating, and he bit down on his lip, for it was all he could do to keep from screaming. The warm blood trickled down his spine and dripped off into the dirt, forming small puddles of crimson in the soil. "One!" His tormenter shouted, but his voice sounded distant, as if he were a figment speaking to him from one of his dreams—no, not dreams. Nightmares. He never had the luxury of having dreams anymore…not since he'd become a slave. The sound of the whip being pulled back again for another lash brought him out of his thoughts, and he prepared himself for the next blow._

_CRACK!_

_His lip was bleeding now, but he still hadn't screamed, even though his back was on fire and his was beginning to tremble, suddenly feeling dizzy. More blood collected in the puddle in the dirt. "Two!" The man's voice was fainter now, and Kenshin looked up to see his master smiling vindictively, his clothes dotted with blood. HIS blood. Wait… two…? It had only been two…? How many more lashes did his master plan on giving him before he was satisfied? His master raised the whip once again, the snakelike piece of leather dancing through the air. Kenshin shut his eyes and tensed his entire body, hoping that would lessen the pain._

_CRACK! _

_Oh kami...it hurts, it hurts!_

"_AAAAAAAHHHH!"_

_Kenshin's shriek resounded throughout the forest, where they'd taken him to be flogged, causing birds to fly up out of where they'd been perched in the trees, desperate to get away from the cries of the suffering child. Kenshin began to whimper and shake uncontrollably, the blood now trailing down the back of his legs and arms, staining the bark from the tree that he had been tied to. The slave master's sadistic smile only widened, for finally eliciting a scream from his slave appeared to give him pleasure._

"_Three."_

"Hey!" Hiko said as he shook the child's shoulder, who had been completely silent for almost a minute now, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists.

"Nani?" He said shakily, the terrible memory dissipating into nothingness as Hiko called him back to the present.

"I just wanted to make sure you hadn't fallen asleep on me." '_B.S.' _Hiko thought,_ 'I know you weren't sleeping at all. I know exactly what you were thinking about…those bastard slavers who—no.' _He told himself, _'not now…I can't afford to get angry now.' _

"Kenshin," Hiko called, his voice slightly strained as he attempting to calm himself down. His deshi answered without turning his head, his voice barely a whisper.

"Hai." Hiko looked down at the jar in his hand, suddenly remembering another use for it.

"This should help those scars fade." He said quietly, suppressing his anger towards the slavers who had done this to his apprentice. Kenshin remained silent for a while, reluctant to expose the marks to his master, but after about a minute of deliberation, slowly slid the tattered gi off of his shoulders, stiffening as he did so.

"Do they ever pain you?" Hiko asked as he began to spread the salve all over Kenshin's back and shoulders, massaging it into his skin.

"…Sometimes." He answered uneasily.

"You should've told me. If you don't let them heal properly then you'll be stuck with these scars for the rest of your life. Is that what you want?" Hiko's voice was getting louder now.

"N-no." Kenshin answered, even though he knew that it was a rhetorical question. The samurai only sighed, annoyed that the child had not seen it fit to tell him when something was wrong. (Not that he really expected it, since he had already deduced earlier that the child was the self-sacrificing, non-complaining type.) Hiko added more of the salve to Kenshin's back and began to massage it in, the bumpy feel of the scars under Hiko's fingertips made Hiko's jaw tighten, and his anger began to resurface. He's heard of the horrors that slaves had been known to go through, but for them to do this to a child? It was making Hiko sick just thinking about it. He almost wished he could've been the one to end the lives of those noxious, pernicious, infernal excuses for human beings instead of the bandits who had done them in. If he had been there, he would have made their deaths slow and painful…

"Kenshin!" Hiko prompted when he realized that the child was beginning to fall over, dozing. Granted, the boy needed his rest, but there was a question he had to ask first, one that he had to know the answer to if he expected to get any sleep at all.

"…Hai." Kenshin opened his eyes and swayed slightly, but nonetheless remained awake. Hiko put the lid back on the small jar of salve and wiped his hands on his gi (it was dirty anyway) then addressed his deshi.

"Why did they do this to you?" Hiko asked bluntly, hoping that a direct approach might bring forth an answer from the red head. Kenshin's eyes widened slightly at the question before he lowered his head. How many times had he tried to forget what had happened—why is had happened. But it had been impossible, and it would always _be _impossible, for one simple reason: The memories had been permanently engraved right onto his skin.

The long silence didn't bother Hiko at all, and he waited patiently for Kenshin to speak. When he finally did, his voice was faint and so child-like, it sounded like a four-year-old speaking.

"I helped a girl escape, but…" Kenshin's entire body visibly stiffened, and he inhaled shakily as if to stop himself from bursting out into tears—which was most likely the case. "They—the salvers…they found her. They whipped her too...but she was younger than me, and she wasn't as…strong." It looked as if every word he'd spoken was an effort, and he clamped his eyes shut, willing the images of the beautiful girl being scourged beyond recognition to cease tormenting his thoughts. His hands tightened, and he gripped the blanket with so much force that it began to tear. "They killed her." His voice cracked as he spoke, and for the first time since Hiko had known him, his voice wasn't timid or shy at all…it was angry. And now, Hiko could honestly say to himself that for the first time in his life, here he sat, the master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, the excellent cook, the talented potter, and quite possibly the strongest swordsman in the world, unable to comfort a 10-year-old child. It was frustrating, this feeling that perhaps no matter how he taught his deshi, no matter how strong he became, he would be forced to carry around these emotional scars for the rest of his life, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

A choked sob escaped from Kenshin's throat, interrupting Hiko's thoughts abruptly. Kenshin was trying his best to keep from shaking while fighting to remain as quiet as possible. But try as he might to hide it, Hiko was no fool.

His deshi was crying.

'_No…' _Hiko thought, _'there _is_ something I can do about it.' _Hiko took the boy in his arms and embraced him tightly, his pride gone to the wind. _'Show him I care.' _Kenshin gasped in surprise, but after a few moments gripped Hiko's cloak and buried his face in his master's chest. Then he began to weep freely, his entire body convulsing uncontrollably—except for his hands, which had his master's cloak in a death grip. He wasn't just crying for the slave girl who'd been beaten to death for attempting to escape, or for the pain he'd endured when they'd scourged him for helping her, but also for the helplessness and worthlessness he'd felt as a slave, for the sudden death of his family for which he'd never been able to fully mourn, for the slave girls who'd died protecting him that fateful night, for his constant feeling of being weak and unable to protect anyone. All of those times, he's learned not to cry, he'd _forced_ himself not to—so much so that he didn't even have to think about it anymore; it became second nature. To slavers, to cry was to show weakness, to him, any display of emotion was deadly, for when one had emotions, one became susceptible to pain and to hurt. But…now…here, safe in his master's arms, the man who'd taken him in and told him he would teach him how to protect people—to be strong, he knew that he didn't have to fight anymore to hold back his feelings, to hold back his tears. He didn't want to. And so he cried.

"It's okay, it's okay…" Hiko whispered softly into Kenshin's ear as he pulled the sobbing child closer, rocking him back and forth. He gently stroked Kenshin's scarlet hair, hoping to somehow calm him down a bit. Kenshin only gripped Hiko tighter, his salty tears dampening Hiko's cloak. This went on for a while, with Hiko trying his best to calk down the child's cries with soft words of reassurance and a tight embrace. After about 20 minutes, his cries quieted down, and he began to doze. Soon he stopped trembling, and once his breathing had slowed considerably, Hiko sighed with relief, knowing that the child was finally asleep. He carefully removed the child's fingers from where they'd clutched onto his cloak, then placed him back onto his futon, pulling the blanket up to the child's chin.

Hiko remained sitting cross lagged next to his deshi's still form, observing him as he slept. His eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, his cheeks still wet from the tears, and even though he was fast asleep, his expression looked slightly pained, for apparently even in sleep he couldn't feel completely at ease. Hiko's eyebrows furrowed together and his lips curled down into a frown as a feeling of almost helplessness wormed its way inside of him. If the kid was this screwed up, how could he ever hope of truly helping him? Yes, he could train him with the sword, train his mind even. But the kind of healing and love that families gave…that wasn't something he could give the child. Was he really helping him by teaching him how to kill people…?

"Ni-chan…" The redhead mumbled in his sleep as he turned onto his side, pulling the blanket over with him, exposing the crisscrossing scars that maimed his back.

"No." Hiko said quietly, speaking to himself. _'He does need this training. To protect himself from those who would harm him, and to protect those he cares for.' _Hiko paused for a moment sighing sorrowfully. _'And…I don't think he'd be able to survive another loss like that.' _Hiko spent a few more minutes brooding, before he finally decided to get some sleep. After all, he had chores to do, (his new servant would be out of commission for a while until his back healed) then there was the samurai obsessed with vengeance to deal with, and of course, his one and only baka deshi to look after.

"I'm looking forward to tomorrow, aren't you?" Hiko asked sarcastically to the sleeping child, who moaned slightly as if in response to his master's question.

"Yea, me too." Hiko sighed as he laid down on his futon, awaiting the time until sleep would claim him.

* * *

There you go! This chapter was originally going to be a nightmare scene, but I decided to change it to this to be more original. (but if you would still like me to do a nightmare scene then let me know and I'll try to squeeze on in there.) I also hope I didn't make Hiko OOC, since he was kind of nice in this chapter, but I figured that since it is only Kenshin's second day with Hiko, Hiko would be a bit more nice and understanding. ^_^

Please review!

Dictionary:

Hai: Yes

Baka: Idiot

Deshi: Apprentice

Shishou: Master

Itai: Ouch, painful

Kuso: Japanese curse word


	7. Chapter 7: Morals

Sorry again for the extremely long wait, (Four months, maybe…?) But I do promise I haven't given up on this story. This chapter might be a bit shorter than my other chapters, but I thought that where I ended was a good place to stop. It's also mostly narrative, which I always have trouble with, so sorry if this chapter seems a bit boring, but I promise the climax for this story arc is coming soon! Anyway, go ahead and read!

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, so don't sue me, as I have no money.

* * *

Hiko woke up with the sun, just as he always did every morning, but decided to lie down for a few more minutes, relishing his last few moments in bed before he would have to get up and do chores. After finishing that, he'd have to head back to town to purchase Kenshin some new clothes, all the while keeping an eye out for the samurai pest who insisted on getting revenge. Hiko sighed deeply. It was true. Ryozo had a right to be angry with him after what had happened, and so Hiko had given the man a chance to fight him years ago, knowing full well what the outcome of the battle would be. The fact was that while Hiko was the master of Mitsurugi Ryu, Ryozo was not. Because of this, the man lost terribly, and after going away to train for a few more years, came back to duel again. The second time had been no better, and now he was going for a third try, and his stubbornness was really starting to piss Hiko off. He had an apprentice to train now, and therefore had no time to waste engaging in unnecessary death matches. It had to be just his luck that Ryozo had decided to show up only two days after he'd taken in Kenshin as his apprentice.

Speaking of which, it was about time the little baka woke up. Just because he couldn't do any physical labor—for fear of opening up the healing wounds on his back—didn't mean he was going to let the kid just lie around and stare at the ceiling all day. He would probably have the child cook breakfast while he went out to fetch some firewood to heat up the bath. Although spring was almost over and summer quickly approaching, the nights could still get chilly, and Hiko had no intention of taking a cold bath anytime soon.

With that thought in mind, the Mitsurugi master stood up and folded his futon, tucking it away in a corner of the hut, the kneeled down next to where Kenshin was sleeping. Just as he was about to shake the child awake, he stopped himself and withdrew his hand, sighing softly as he finally got a chance to observe the sleeping child. His cheeks still looked slightly wet and his eyelids puffy, for he'd probably been crying silently while Hiko had been asleep. He'd practically buried himself under the blanket and was curled into a tight ball, only his face visible. He mumbled something incoherent and shifted slightly under the blanket, his breathing deep and slow. He looked completely exhausted to tell the truth, and it wasn't like Hiko could blame him, not after his long day of training and his break down the night before. It would be cruel to wake the boy up now, especially since it looked like he really needed the rest. However, that meant that Hiko would have to cook his own breakfast today. Hiko frowned at that thought, but decided that it would probably be for the best. After all, he'd never tried Kenshin's cooking before, and he wasn't exactly in a risk-taking mood at the moment.

First things first though, he had to gather firewood from the forest to heat up the bath, for he was planning to take one before doing anything else. He'd forgotten, or rather had been to tired to take one last night—he blamed the little red head sleeping on his futon for that—and there was absolutely no way he was going to wait any longer. After all, he had always prided himself on maintaining good hygiene. He just hoped the kid wouldn't wake up while he was gone and think he'd abandoned him or something. He wouldn't put it past Kenshin to come to such a conclusion.

Shaking his head, he stood up with a sigh and grabbed his cloak as well as his katana, then headed outside. Two birds flitted past him as he stepped into the clearing and breathed in the fresh morning air, taking a moment to appreciate the nature that surrounded him. He had to admit; he'd chosen the perfect place to live. There was not another soul for miles around, and since there was nothing of particular interest on his mountain, travelers didn't venture too far from the village below. He'd hoped that the remoteness would keep him from having to interact with the complete idiots of whom ninety-nine percent of the world was made up of, and it had worked for a while. But now it seemed that no matter how hard he tried to remain a recluse, he was always dragged back out and forced to deal with other people's problems. (He now considered Ryozo's infatuation with revenge Ryozo's problem, not his, since he refused to fight the man.) He was sure that when he went back to town in the afternoon the police would cause him trouble, and as tempting as the thought was to send Kenshin to buy his own clothes, he knew the baka would only get hopelessly lost. It was just as well, for he wouldn't be able to avoid them forever, and there was always the chance that he wouldn't even run into any of the officers while in town. Hiko smirked. Perhaps today wouldn't be such a bad day after all. Grabbing the ax that was stuck in a tree stump next to the cabin, he headed out of the clearing and into the forest.

* * *

"Perfect." Ryozo muttered as he looked upon the splintered remains of what had once been a beautiful pine tree. He slowly sheathed his katana and smirked with satisfaction at his skill. If this move alone was powerful enough to reduce a mighty pine tree to a mass of broken wood and needles, he could only imagine the effect it would have on an actual human being. He relished the idea, hoping that he would be able to witness its effect in the very near future. Preferably on a certain Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth. Just the thought of being able to finally finish the arrogant bastard made him feel a sense of euphoria that increased his already strong anticipation for the battle.

He wanted so _badly_ to defeat Hiko, for all the hell that the man had put him through—from humiliating him, to taking away the only man who had ever seen any worth in him. Ryozo clenched his teeth at that thought, but decided that now was not the time to let his anger get the best of him, for he wanted to keep a cool head and remain 100 percent alert when it came time for the battle. If he let his emotions get the best of him, his skills would slip and his attacks would become sporadic—he had learned this about himself from his previous battles with the master swordsman—and he would not repeat that same mistake a third time.

It had been three years since his last defeat, and during that time, he had spent hours training not only his body, but also his mind. Although not perfect, he'd been able to build a mask for himself: calm, cool, and indifferent. He had let his anger slip earlier when he had confronted Hiko the day before, but was determined not to let it happen again. The man Hiko knew from years ago was now gone. Or rather, simply hidden behind the cold and heartless exterior of what was really a broken, defeated man with no real purpose in life but to get revenge and prove the worth of his existence. Although Ryozo refused admit to himself that defeat was possibly, if not completely inevitable, within the deep corners of his consciousness, he was afraid of failure. He was afraid to admit that perhaps all of the years of training had really just been a fruitless effort, that he was in actuality extremely _jealous_ of Hiko and always had been, and that he was hiding his reasons for his contempt and hate for the man behind the concept of revenge. Revenge would always be a probable reason for hating a person, a reason that most people understood, if not encouraged in some cases. But for jealousy…that was considered shallow and dishonorable, and no master would agree to train a student who wanted to kill for that reason.

_No. _Ryozo stopped himself. He _did_ want revenge for what had happened. It had been the final straw in his lifetime of being belittled and being constantly outdone by Hiko. It didn't matter if Hiko wanted to fight or not, because Ryozo would _make_ him, one way or another. He'd thought about the situation all night, and as much as he tried to avoid it, the same idea he'd thought of when he'd seen Hiko's new apprentice kept creeping its way back into his mind. It was precise, efficient, and would be easy to carry out. The problem was, however, that he might have to compromise his morals in order to do it. Ryozo sighed and lay down in the grass with his katana at his side, his thoughts straying to his childhood, his training…the _incident_. His brows furrowed as memories flashed through his mind. He thought of what he was planning to do in the light of them, and shook his head. Nothing changed his plan.

_Of course it isn't morally wrong. If this were the only way to get Hiko to fight me, and therefore free the world of another murderer like him, wouldn't it be considered _immoral_ to do otherwise? Yes…yes, it would be! _Ryozo sat up in the grass, becoming excited at his newly found logical explanation. _And I must do everything in my power to end him. _That_ is my moral duty. _Ryozo stood up and picked up his katana, slipping it into the knot in his hakama, fully convinced of his own twisted ideology. He headed towards his destination, his cool mask once again set in place, but he couldn't help but feel it…a tiny part of his subconscious, telling him that he might just be wrong.

* * *

It was about an hour after chopping wood that Hiko began to sense that something was amiss. He put down his ax and extended his senses, searching for any sign of danger. Then he felt it: A flicker of ki. He extended his senses even further to probe for the mysterious ki again, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone. The intruding swordsman was obviously trying to mask it, but had let his guard down for a brief moment, and for Hiko, that was all he needed to sense a man's presence.

_Now what swordsman has the gall to trespass on my— _Hiko's eyes suddenly widened with realization, and he mentally slapped himself for his stupidity. _That damn fool. Unless he's come back to apologize, I'm going to grab him by the arms and fling him all the way to Kyoto! _Hiko felt for the ki again, but felt nothing. _Looks like that baka got some training in masking his ki…no matter. I'm not masking mine at all, and considering how intimidating mine is, it should be unmistakable. All I have to do is wait for him to find me so I can kick him off my mountain personally. _

Hiko waited impatiently with a scowl on his face, not happy at all with how his day was going so far. Then it just got a whole lot worse. He felt another small flicker of ki, but it didn't seem as if it were headed toward him at all—rather, it was headed in the opposite direction. The cabin.

Hiko muttered obscenities as he quickly picked up the ax and ran full speed towards the cabin where his pupil lay sleeping, completely unaware of the approaching danger.

* * *

_I swear, if he lays one hand on my apprentice I'll kill him! _After about five more minutes of sprinting, Hiko finally reached the familiar clearing in which he'd built his cabin. In the blink of an eye he'd spanned the space between the edge of the woods and the cabin, and slid open the door with more force than was necessary, causing the door to break—he didn't care. He stumbled into the cabin and ran over to where Kenshin's futon was, freezing in his spot on the floor.

The futon was empty.

Hiko cursed loudly and kicked the desk next to him in anger, cursing himself for leaving Kenshin alone, for not arriving sooner, hell, for not even thinking that Ryozo would do something as desperate as this! Hiko looked down at the futon again, noticing that there was a note. Snatching the paper up from the bed, Hiko knew that he didn't need to read the letter to know what it said.

_Meet me at the waterfall at dusk. We will fight there. Until then, I'll be keeping your apprentice._

_Ryozo Fukuyama_

Hiko crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it on the floor. _Well, you've gotten your wish. You've officially managed to piss me off. You wanted a battle. _

_You'll have it. _

* * *

Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I promise that my next update will not take four months. XD Please review!


	8. Chapter 8: Explanations

Well, it didn't take 4 months! *sweatdrops* This chapter would have been uploaded about a week ago, but my beta pointed out a major plot hole, so I had to rewrite the entire flashback. . I hope the length of this chapter will make up for the long wait. Hehe. Anyway, enough of my ramblings, go ahead and enjoy!

Disclaimer: I didn't own it last chapter, and I don't own it now.

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The first thing Kenshin was aware of was that there was something rough scratching up against his back. His hazy mind tried to figure out what it was, but whatever he'd been drugged with was making his thought process extremely slow, and eventually he gave up. His muscles were a bit stiff however, and he attempted to stretch, only to realize that he was unable to move at all. _Wha…?_ With much effort he finally opened his eyes, blinking against the bright sunlight that temporarily blinded him. Once his vision had cleared up, he looked down at his body and groaned. He'd been tied to a tree, and tightly, judging by the fact that it was a bit difficult to breathe.

For a few moments he couldn't comprehend exactly why he'd woken up bound to a tree in the middle of a forest, but then the memories hit him like a slap in the face.

Ryozo.

The man had yanked him out of his bed, and Kenshin didn't even have time to scream before a funny smelling cloth was smothered over his face. He'd blacked out pretty quickly, and now apparently he'd ended up here. Well, wherever "here" was, anyway. He had no katana on him, that much was certain, so it didn't look like he'd have anything to cut the...rope (was it?) from off himself.

"Don't even think about escaping." Kenshin looked up with surprise to see Ryozo leaning against a tree, wiping his katana with rice paper to clean it. Until the man had spoken, it hadn't occurred to Kenshin that Ryozo would also be here. The drug didn't seem to have completely worn off yet. "Your master will be coming here to get you in a while, and it wouldn't be much of an incentive for him to fight me if you had already escaped by yourself." Kenshin's eyes widened. It took him a few moments to find his voice, and when he did, it was slightly slurred.

"You mean that's why you…" Kenshin trailed off, not quite believing Ryozo's words.

"Yes." Ryozo smirked, setting his katana down and moving on to the wakizashi. "He seems to care about you, so I'm sure he'll be showing up just as I planned." Kenshin stared blankly at the ground, once again feeling like a powerless liability. What if when his master came to rescue him, Ryozo killed him?

_No, don't think that way. _Kenshin berated himself. _Shishou is very strong. He can defeat Ryozo. I know it. He…has to. But…at least I can try to escape. If I can get away then Shishou won't have to fight at all. _Kenshin looked at Ryozo from the corner of his eye, glad to see that he was focused on cleaning his blade. Satisfied that he would not be in danger of being caught, Kenshin proceed to wriggle through the ropes, hoping to at least loosen them enough to free one of his hands.

"You know, I don't plan on hurting you. But if you keep that up I might have to." Ryozo was still looking down at his wakizashi, wiping the rice paper up and down the entire blade. Kenshin froze immediately, astonished that Ryozo had been able to tell what he was doing without seeing him.

Ryozo smirked at the child's surprise, then slid the wakizashi back into its sheath. He really had no intention at all of hurting the child, but had decided scaring him into complying would be the easiest thing to do.

"Shishou won't lose to you." Kenshin said softly, his eyes towards the ground. "He's a great swordsman." Years before, Ryozo would have gone into a terrible rage at the child's comments, but instead, he walked over to where Kenshin was tied to the tree and stooped to the child's level, his characteristic smirk still shown on his features.

"Is that so?" Kenshin shrank back at having the man so close to him, but didn't betray any fear in his violet eyes. "Well," Ryozo continued, "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, won't you." He leaned in closer, attempting to intimidate the child, who pressed himself harder against the tree, Ryozo's warm breath brushing uncomfortably across his cheeks. However, despite all of this, he kept careful control of his expression, trying hard to remain brave. _I can't let him know that I'm scared. I have to be strong... for Shishou. _Kenshin reminded himself, returning Ryozo's scrutinizing gaze with a fierce glare of his own--his eyes remaining strong.

Defiant.

This of all things upset Ryozo. This little waif could be no older than eight years old, and with just one glance you could tell that he had been neglected and perhaps even abused for quite some time. However, for one who was supposedly so young, the ki that emanated from the child was very strong and unwavering, despite the fact that it lacked the maturity of that of an adult. It was almost as if the boy had been born to be a swordsman. Perhaps that was what had drawn Hiko to take in the boy as his apprentice. Although, in Ryozo's mind, the possibility of Hiko doing something good was next to nothing, and so he attributed the reason why Hiko had taken in the child to some as of yet unknown but inevitably selfish reason.

"Humph." The samurai stood up to his full height and walked back over to the tree, leaning against it once again. He'd already finished cleaning his swords—well, with the limited supplies he had anyway—and for one thing, he didn't plan on remaining stuck in this clearing staring at the little red-head for the rest of the day. He was just about to get up and cook some lunch when a quiet voice interrupted him.

"Why do you want to kill my master?" Ryozo turned around to look at the young boy who had spoken, a bit caught off guard by the question.

"He never told you, I'm assuming?" Kenshin shook his head, and Ryozo frowned. "Well then, I suppose you have a right to know." The samurai sat down cross-legged in the grass, and then placed his swords beside him. His mood had darkened considerably, Kenshin noticed, as he prepared to tell his story. The young boy had surprised himself when he'd candidly asked why it was that Ryozo was demanding revenge, but he'd been extremely curious, and ever since the samurai had made his surprise visit to their mountain, he'd been unable to shake the question from his mind.

"To put it bluntly, Hiko murdered my father." Kenshin's eyes widened at hearing this, but he quickly reassured himself that Hiko would never kill someone unless he had a good reason. At least, that's what he wanted to believe. "My father was a great man, and certainly didn't deserve to die at the hands of an amateur swordsman. To this day, I can't fathom how it was possible for him to be defeated like that, not unless there was some sort of foul play involved."

"Who…who was your father?" Kenshin asked timidly. There had to have been a reason for Hiko to kill the man. Perhaps Ryozo's father had been part of the yakuza, or had been a slaver of some sort. There had to be a reason.

"Who was he?" Ryozo scoffed, shaking his head, his tone suggesting that the whole world should have known who his father was. "My father was a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. In other words, Hiko Seijuro the 12th."

* * *

Hiko exhaled loudly in frustration, kicking a stone into the waterfall—he seemed to be doing a lot of kicking lately—and then crossed his arms. He'd come to the waterfall to see if Ryozo was stupid enough to wait there for the rest of the day, but of course Ryozo had to make it hard on him. For all he knew he could be halfway to Kyoto, waiting until dusk to come anywhere near the Hiten master.

Muttering a curse, Hiko swiftly turned back to head to his cabin, his white mantle whipping out furiously behind him. It would have been an understatement to say that Hiko was royally pissed off, but he couldn't help but put some of the blame on himself and his own carelessness. If that little baka was hurt in anyway…well, Hiko knew that he'd have no one to blame but himself.

Hiko sighed deeply, contemplating whether or not he should go searching for the two instead of waiting until nightfall like Ryozo had planned. Chances were that Ryozo had gone pretty far out of his reach, and even with Hiko's extraordinary ability to sense ki from miles away—or so he bragged—it would still take quite a while to find them.

_Damn him…he's got me right where he wants me. That ahou…he doesn't know what he's getting himself into. He can never defeat me…he should know that by now. Pff. Revenge is such a petty thing to lose one's life over. Especially if that revenge is not even fully justified…_Hiko shook his head, stopping his musings from taking a sorrowful turn. He slid open the shoji to his humble abode, looking for his sake jug, only to find that is was completely empty. _Kuso…_Hiko tossed the alcohol-free container haphazardly aside, and then sat down with his back against the wall, tilting his head back with a groan. It wasn't even noon yet, and this day was already turning out to be one his worst to date. _I really wish I had some sake right now…_

Letting his eyes wander around the cabin, Hiko's gaze landed upon a small wooden top that was lying on its side next to Kenshin's empty futon. His heart gave a painful wrench and his hands balled into fists as he was reminded of his missing deshi once more.

Ryozo hadn't always been like this—full of resentment, obvious jealousy, and now appearing to be helplessly desperate. Years ago, when they had been children, he could have even called Ryozo a friend, despite their constant bickering and Hiko's arrogant disposition towards the boy. (Not that it was ever unjustified, of course.) But now, all hopes of there ever being any type of friendly relationship with Ryozo were dashed to the winds. Although, as Hiko thought on it, those hopes may have been gone long before the samurai had shown up on his mountain demanding yet another death match.

Hiko closed his eyes as memories from his past found their way to the surface of his consciousness, he unable to hold them back any longer. He let his mind wander back to the time when he'd first become a pupil of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, to a time when he'd been an idealistic and somewhat boastful youth, and to the time when Ryozo's first feelings of hatred towards Hiko had lodged themselves in his heart.

* * *

_August 1845_

"_C'mon Ryozo-chibi! I bet you can't catch me!" The eleven-year-old future master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu taunted, weaving in and out of trees, looking behind him every once in a while to see if his cousin was following._

"_That's not fair Ni'itsu-niisan! You're taller than me!" The boy whined, stumbling along as he tried his best to catch up to his older cousin, only managing to fall further behind._

"_Haha well I can't help it if I'm more manly than you!" Ni'itsu stopped and turned around, laughing when he saw that Ryozo was merely a speck in the distance. "Uncle will never choose you as his apprentice if you stay so puny!" _

"_I'm not puny!" Ryozo yelled, his petulant voice echoing throughout the entire forest. His breathing was getting heavier now, and his chest was starting to hurt._

"_Chibi chibi chibi!" Ni'itsu stuck out his tongue and made a face before running further into the forest, expecting his cousin to follow him once again. "You may as well start calling me Hiko Seijuro the 13th 'cause Uncle's going to choose me as his—" Ni'itsu stopped when he noticed that Ryozo wasn't following him at all. He looked around briefly, then sighed in annoyance. "Ryozo!" He called, but after waiting a few moments for a reply, he received no answer. "That little shrimp…" Ni'itsu mumbled as he turned around and started running in the opposite direction in search of the nine-year-old boy. _

"_Oi! Ryozo!" Ni'itsu spotted his younger cousin sitting on the ground with his hand over his mouth and his shoulder's appearing to be shaking. Ni'itsu took this as laughter, and pouted playfully. "What's so funny?" The boy approached the figure with his arms crossed, but as he got closer, he realized that his cousin wasn't laughing at all. He was coughing. "Ryozo…?" Ni'itsu kneeled down next to the boy, worry evident in his onyx eyes. "Ryozo, stop it!" Ni'itsu commanded, but the boy didn't seem to hear him. He hacked and struggled to breathe, but his burning lungs had succumbed to the painful coughs being ripped from his body, and were unable to take in any air._

"_Ryozo! Stop!" Ni'itsu pleaded, his heart starting to beat faster._

"_Ni—" Ryozo tried to speak, but had now doubled over as his torso no longer had the strength to keep him upright._

"_A-are you choking?! Did-did you swallow a-a bug or something?" Ni'itsu was fighting to keep his composure, but the sight of seeing his little cousin practically coughing his lungs out was scaring him out of his wits. "ANSWER ME!" Ni'itsu took hold of Ryozo's shoulders and shook them, but Ryozo only responded by coughing even harder, a gurgling sound starting to come from the back of his throat. "Ryozo!" Ni'itsu helped his cousin to his feet, putting the boy's left hand around his shoulder and placing a firm hand around the boy's waist. "Just—just old on! I'm bringing you to Uncle, okay?" Ni'itsu's heart was racing as fear for his cousin's life overtook him. _

_With his cousin now leaning on him for support, he headed for his Uncle's house as fast as his burden would allow him, looking down at the boy every few seconds, nearly tripping over tree roots several times because of it. _

"_Itai!" Ni'itsu hissed when his leg scratched up against a thorn bush, leaving a bloody trail on his calf. He looked down at his cousin once again, but he instantly paled, his blood running cold when he took in the terrifying sight. Ryozo had his hand cupped to his mouth tightly, and there was something dripping down in between Ryozo's clenched fingers, some of the substance dribbling down the boy's chin._

_Blood. _

_

* * *

_

_"It's consumption, I'm afraid." _

_The 12th Master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu swallowed hard, not quite believing what the doctor was telling him. Surely his only son could not have contracted that diabolical disease, the disease that was so cursed amongst Japanese society that even the uttering of its name could send its filthy clutches upon you._

_"That can't be possible. My son was normal and healthy." Hiko looked upon the pale form of his son lying unconscious on the futon. "How could this have happened? We've done nothing to offend the Gods to have them punish my son in this way!"_

_"I'm sorry Seijuro-sama, but I'm only a doctor, not a priest." The old man said sorrowfully. Hiko sighed, nodding his head in defeat. It was at that moment that Ni'itsu made his presence known, sliding open the shoji that lead to Ryozo's bedroom with more force than was necessary._

_"I came as soon as I--!" Ni'itsu stopped when he saw the sad looks on the faces of his uncle and the other man whom he assumed to be the doctor. "What...what is it? What did he say?" The eleven-year-old looked frantically between the two adults, impatient for an answer._

_"Now, Ni'itsu..."_

_"TELL ME!" He shouted, not able to bear the suspense any longer. Although the little kid bugged the hell out of him sometimes, he was worried about Ryozo, although he hardly ever admitted that he actually cared about him._

_"He has consumption." Hiko finished, turning to the side to hide his watery eyes._

_"W-what? How could...?" Ni'itsu trailed off, his eyes wide with shock. He looked down at his little cousin who was sprawled on the futon in the corner of the room, his face slick with perspiration. "But-but that's not fair!" The child shouted, turning towards the Mitsurugi master. "He wanted to learn Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu just as much as I did! I mean, I always teased him saying that you'd always choose me when you chose your apprentice, but…" The eleven-year-old blinked away his angry tears. "But he didn't even get a chance to prove himself! It's not fair!" _

_"I know. It isn't fair. But that's how life is." They both looked at the sorry form of the now disease stricken child, knowing that Ryozo wasn't going to take it well at all._

_"We didn't even get a chance to spar yet…"Ni'itsu sniffled, looking down at the ground. He had always imagined that being able to become a student of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu was the best thing anyone could hope for, and he'd always imagined that when—not if—he became his uncle's apprentice, it would be the best feeling in the world. However, becoming his apprentice because of his cousin's inability to train left him with a sick feeling in his stomach. _

_"Well," The doctor cleared his throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I'll be on my way. Be sure to give him the medicinal tea I told you about, and the herbs I gave you should help him breathe easier. However, the rest is up to him." And with that, the doctor took his leave._

_They were both right though. Ryozo didn't take it well at all._

_"I'm fine!" Ryozo had been out of bed for a week now, and had insisted on being reconsidered for an apprenticeship. Ever since he'd been old enough to understand just who his father was, he'd known that he as well as his cousin were candidates for becoming Hiko Seijuro the 12th's new student. Although it was always possible that Ryozo's father would choose neither of them, there were no other children living in their small village, and considering how far away from civilization they were, that probably meant that there would be no competition for miles around. Because of this, the two boys had become extremely competitive, each one trying his best to impress the Mitsurugi Master. Hiko had also noticed the scarcity of children from which he'd choose his next apprentice, and had also been considering his son as well as his nephew. However, he'd been leaning towards his nephew for quite a few reasons, and the fact that his son was now ill had led him to finalize the decision._

_"I've chosen my apprentice and that's the end of it!" Hiko Seijuro said, now frustrated with his son who refused to give up. "You may feel better now, but if you strain yourself you'll only end up in bed again, coughing up blood!"_

_"But there are lots of swordsman out there who have consumption, and they can fight really well!" Hiko sighed, knowing that the only way to get Ryozo to calm down and accept his decision would be to tell him the whole truth of why he hadn't chosen him as his apprentice._

"_It's not only the disease, Ryozo." Ni'itsu, who had been busy with his practice swings turned around at hearing that, now curious as to what his uncle was going to say. "Your small body isn't meant for this style, and it would damage it immensely." Both Ryozo and Ni'itsu stared at Hiko in confusion, both waiting for him to continue. "I was waiting to see if perhaps you'd grow stronger, but…" Hiko was trying his best to word it so that his nine-year-old son would understand. "Your build isn't large enough to handle Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. It would destroy you. Especially now that you've been weakened by your…condition." _

"_But…just because I'm not strong now, that doesn't mean that I won't get better! I'm just as good as Ni'itsu!" Ryozo pointed to his older cousin, who narrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but decided not to fire a retort. Hiko sighed with exasperation, frustrated that his son still refused to accept the fact that he wasn't going to learn the Hiten style. _

"_My decision is final, Ryozo!" Hiko peered down into his son's eyes, making sure that his son understood "Now either sit down and be quiet or find something else to do! I will not let you hinder Ni'itsu's training!" _

_Ryozo had nothing to say to his father after that, and silence descended upon the three for a short while. Finally, Ryozo broke the silence by shuffling over to sit on a rock not too far away, keeping his red-rimmed eyes trained onto the ground, not saying a word._

_Then, with a sigh, Hiko turned towards his new deshi, continuing with the training session once more._

_The months passed by slowly, with Ryozo's jealousy towards Ni'itsu growing day by day. He often came to observe their training sessions, scowling whenever his cousin managed to master a new move, or whenever he was praised for a job well done. Jealousy soon turned to contempt, which eventually evolved into hate. There were several times when a fight had broken out between the two of them, fights that always ended with Ni'itsu being harshly reprimanded for not keeping his temper in check and not being able to ignore Ryozo's provocations or contemptuous attitude. Ryozo in turn had also been punished, often forced to leave the training area and "find something more productive to do." There were a few times when Ryozo's illness got the better of him, and he would be bedridden for weeks on end, his father often taking time away from training Ni'itsu to tend to his son's needs. It was at times like these that Ryozo felt the happiest, knowing that deep down his father __**must**__ prefer him—his only son—to Ni'itsu. _

_Hiko was indeed aware of his son's growing enmity towards Ni'itsu, but found that there was little he could do about it. He felt bad for his son, having to be alienated from everyone else, and being treated as if he were already a dead man, damned to live the rest of his life withering away until there was nothing left. Such was the mentality of the Japanese people. Invalids were scorned at, and considered a curse to any household in which they dwelled. To have a son with a terminal illness meant that he must have done something terrible to anger the Gods, either in this life or his previous ones. Hiko never considered himself much of a believer in such superstitions, but he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he was to blame for his son's misfortune. His late wife had certainly been a kind and humble woman, deprived of living a long life due to her inability to survive through childbirth. Surely it couldn't have been some secret sin that his wife had committed that would thrust this upon his child?_

_After letting his reasoning bring him around in circles, Hiko decided to give up and not to dwell on the fact any longer. Trying to figure out the "whys" in his life was pointless now. He had an apprentice to train, and a son to raise, and he was confident that he could do both simultaneously. He only hoped that as his son got older, he would become wiser, and learn to be happy with his life and let go of his hatred. _

_Hiko could not have been more wrong._

_"I'm sick of you!" It had been three years since Ryozo had come down with his illness, and with a combination of the daily consumption of medicinal herbs and a careful watch of his diet, he'd been able to keep his disease under control fairly well. However, the same could not be said for his temper._

_"You're sick of me?! I'm sick of you! You're obviously just jealous of me!" Ni'itsu had become fed up with Ryozo's attitude, and now that his Shishou wasn't around--he'd left to go pick up some supplies from town--he was going to tell the little brat exactly how he felt about him. Of course his master wouldn't have left the two of them alone, but Ryozo had decided to miraculously show up only a few minutes after the departure of his Shishou and start an argument._

"_I would never be jealous of a stuck-up know-it-all like you! You don't deserve to learn from my father!"_

_"Like you'd be able to learn anyway! You'd probably just be coughing up blood the whole time!"_

"_That's not true! I'm getting better and you know it!" _

_"Maybe now, but you heard what he said! You're too weak for this style anyway!" Ni'itsu was getting worked up now, "And besides that, you always go crying to daddy trying to get me in trouble when you're the one who tried to pick a fight with me!" _

"_Shut up!"_

"_You're just saying that because you know it's true!"_

_"I said, SHUT UP!" With that Ryozo pounced on his older cousin, tackling him to the ground. Ni'itsu was now thirteen years old, and had grown considerably in the past three years. He was nearly two heads taller than Ryozo, but he had been taken by surprise by Ryozo's sudden resort to violence, and was unable to prevent his fall. _

_Ni'itsu pushed the boy from off him with a grunt, getting to his feet before Ryozo charged him once again. He sidestepped him this time, sending Ryozo crashing into the dirt, unable to stop his own momentum. He slowly pushed himself off the ground, preparing to charge once again._

_"You--" Ryozo's tirade was cut off by a painful cough that erupted from his throat, which was followed by another, and then another, and soon he had collapsed on in the dirt in a coughing fit, blood running down the corners of his mouth. Ni'itsu muttered a curse as he rushed over and kneeled next to his cousin, who shoved him off weakly in an attempt to refuse help._

_"You baka!" Ni'itsu hefted Ryozo into his arms and brought him into the house, ignoring the boy's weak protests. This hadn't been the first time that Ryozo had brought about another one of his coughing fits by picking a fight with him, and it probably wouldn't be the last. If there was one thing that could be said about his cousin, it was that he never learned from his mistakes. Time and time again he would try to start a fight, presumably to prove that he was not in any way inferior to Ni'itsu, only for it to end in either his Shishou breaking up the scuffle, or Ryozo coughing up blood. Ni'itsu knew that deep down Ryozo was not a bad person--after all Ni'itsu was a master at determining character--but he'd concluded that Ryozo simply wanted to prove that he was not the invalid everyone said he was and that he was just as capable of learning swordsmanship as his cousin. In Ni'itsu's eyes, this constant drive to prove him would probably one day lead to his cousin's downfall._

_After that little episode, Ryozo had been confined to his bed for nearly a month, living off of miso soup and medicinal tea. He'd also been officially banned from watching his cousin's training, and so resorted to spending his time training on his own. It wasn't very hard for him to sneak off with one of his father's katana while he was busy training with Ni'itsu and head into the woods to practice katas. After years of observing his cousin's training, he was able to pick up a few of the moves, filling in the gaps in his memory with made-up attacks of his own. _

_It was not uncommon for him to become short of breath or start coughing up blood in the middle of one of his improvised katas, but he hid this fact from his father well, by washing off the blood in the stream, and making sure that he became tan enough to disguise his pallid skin. He continued his practice sessions for nearly a year before he was caught by his tattle-telling cousin, and he was forced to remain under the watchful eye of one of the other villagers for nearly a month. However, as soon as his father let him go off on his own again, he'd got right back to training. The disease seemed to have relented its hold on him for now, and for that he was grateful. _

_Three more years had passed, with both Ni'itsu and Ryozo advancing in their training. It was on his way home from one of his improvised training sessions that Ryozo heard a voice scream--a voice that Ryozo recognized as being his cousin's. Hearing his cousin scream was not uncommon however, for Ryozo would often hear his battle cries as he and his father sparred. No, the fact that he had screamed was not what had caused Ryozo's heart to skip a beat and his hair stand on end. It was __**what **__that voice had screamed that had made his eyes widen with fear._

_"SHISHOU!" _

_

* * *

_

"Your father..." Kenshin's voice quivered. "But that would meant that--"

"My father was Hiko's master, or Ni'itsu, as he was called back then." Kenshin was at a loss for words. He simply couldn't believe it. His Shishou had killed his own master? How could that be?

"Hmph." Ryozo smirked. "Surprised? You shouldn't be. Hiko's a selfish and arrogant bastard. He only killed my father so he could assume the title of Hiko Seijuro the 13th and cater to his ever growing ego by proving his skills against my father."

"That's not true!" Kenshin blurted out, surprising himself once again with his bluntness. Since when did he become so outspoken? _Since I stopped being a slave. _The stronger part of Kenshin's subconscious told him. And now, it was telling him that he should defend his master. "Shishou would never do something like that!"

"And exactly how long have you known him?" Ryozo's tone was menacing, his expression sardonic.

"Three days, but--"

"Three days!" Ryozo spat, moving close enough to the boy that their noses almost touched. "And you think that's long enough to get to know a person, I suppose?" Ryozo looked straight into Kenshin's violet eyes, eyes that seemed to hold no fear. After a few moments, he spoke, his voice strong and unwavering.

"He saved my life. That's enough for me." There was silence between the two for a while after that, until finally Ryozo stood up to his full height, swallowing his anger and hiding it behind a mask of indifference.

"You've got guts. I'll give you that." Ryozo admitted, eyeing the boy curiously. "You asked me why I want to kill him, and I've told you, yet you refuse to believe me. It seems like this little talk has been a waste of both of our time." Ryozo picked up his swords and placed them into his obi, making sure it was secure, then looked up the small red-haired boy. "Believe what you want to believe. But remember this: Your master is as good as dead."

* * *

Hiko opened his eyes with a start, surprised that he'd managed to fall asleep. He stood up from where he'd leaned against the wall, stretching his cramped muscles as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He looked around the room, observing the long shadows that his possessions were casting, and the soft orange glow that his cabin had now acquired.

At this realization, Hiko suddenly became fully alert, the senses that he'd honed to perfection now ready to push themselves to the limits. He knelt down to pick up his katana, grasping it firmly in one hand while sliding the shoji open with the other and heading out into the clearing.

It was time.

* * *

Note #1: Attaching "niisan" to an older cousin's name is often acceptable, especially if the two have a close bond with one another. The terms "niisan" and "neesan" can even be used between people who are not related, to simply make the conversation friendlier.

Note #2: The part I said about the superstitions surrounding consumption (also known as tuberculosis) are true. Consumption was seen as a curse to any household, and many times even the relatives of those with the disease were shunned. People feared that by being in contact with someone who had also come in contact with a person who had the disease would endanger them as well. I will use the term "consumption" in this fanfic because the proper name for the disease was not used until the 1880s, when a German doctor discovered the bacteria that caused the disease.

Note #3: Although it is uncertain what Hiko's real name is, Misao mentioned that he had been going under the alias of "Ni'itsu Kakunoshin" while doing his pottery. So, for my fanfic, I'm going to assume that this was his birth name.

Author's Notes: (I have a lot of these don't I?) I would like to thank all of my faithful readers who have continued to review this story despite my sporadic updates. I always enjoy reading and replying to them. Also, I have a poll concerning my story on my profile page that I'd like you all to take a look at, and I would appreciate it if you would vote and give me your feedback. Once again, thank you all for reading, and please leave a review!

Dictionary:

Baka: Idiot

Deshi: Apprentice

Shishou: Master

Itai: Ouch, painful

Kuso: Japanese curse word

Ki: A swordsman's aura/spirit

Gi:Japanese robe-style shirt, usually worn with a hakama

Ahou: Moron/fool

Kata: A series of prescribed movements for a particular martial art

Chibi: small/tiny/short

Niisan: Older brother


	9. Chapter 9: Justice

Okay, I know. It's been over a year. I really have no excuse. It's pathetic. I started this story as a freshman in high school, and now I've just begun my senior year and I'm only on chapter 9…I mean...I _was _extremely busy last year—multiple AP classes, Cross Country, Track etc, but I really should have taken the time to update this. To be honest, I had written about half of this chapter 6 months ago, but I absolutely hated it, and never got around to finishing it until a few weeks ago. Sorry! I just…this was very hard for me to write. Action scenes aren't my forte, and I was very insecure about my portrayal of Watsuki's characters in this situation. (Would Hiko be furious? Sarcastic? Both?) Eventually, I decided to just sit down and write, and I came up with this. I hope it was worth the wait!

Special thanks to my beta, stingrae, who has taken the time to read through this monster of a chapter and provide her valuable feedback. Thank you! (Be sure to check out her RK stories!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

* * *

Kenshin gazed off into the trees, his eyes distant and unfocused. His mind whirred with hundreds of questions spawned by Ryozo's most startling revelation about his Shishou's past—the fact that he had killed his own master. Kenshin refused to believe that his master would kill without having a good reason. No heartless murderer could have saved him from death at the hand of those bandits, or taken him in as his apprentice and treated him as if he were actually _worth_ something. In the few days Kenshin had spent with his master, he'd come to greatly respect the man, and certainly had no intentions of letting some rogue samurai convince him that his Shishou was just as bad as the bandits who had killed the other slaves.

No. Kenshin wouldn't have it.

Kenshin's eyes hardened with this resolution. Ryozo looked to be a bit crazy anyway. In fact, Kenshin wouldn't have been surprised if the man had made the whole thing up! At this thought, Kenshin's eyebrows shot up and he inhaled sharply, the beginnings of a satisfied smile being to pull on the corners of his mouth. Of course! It made so much sense! Kenshin felt a surge of relief when he came to what he believed to be the most logical conclusion. Hiko hadn't done anything wrong, and Ryozo was just an evil man who wanted to fight Hiko to prove how strong he was. It seemed to be the perfect explanation to the nearly ten-year-old boy. Just as he was about to dismiss Ryozo's words as nothing but a big fat lie, Hiko's words from the day before hit him unexpectedly, like a slap in the face.

"_You're a fool. If you've done nothing these past four years but plan your "revenge," you're even more of a baka than you were back then."_

Kenshin's eyes widened, his apparent epiphany of a moment ago not seeming to add up with Hiko's words. _Something did happen back then…I guess I never thought about it before, but Shishou never denied that he killed Ryozo's father. So…did he? Ryozo seemed really angry about it. Either he's telling the truth, or is a very good liar._ Kenshin sighed. _If only Shishou were here. Then I could ask him what really happened. _Wriggling slightly to try to get _some_ feeling back into his hands, Kenshin noticed the trees were beginning to cast long shadows all over the campsite. Eyes widened, he took a good look around him, and saw that the day was almost near an end. Although it wouldn't be sunset for probably another half an hour, he was already getting anxious about the battle to come. Kenshin took a look around the small campsite, and saw Ryozo leaned up against a black pine with his arms crossed and head tilted down, making it difficult for Kenshin to see if he were awake or not.

In the hours following he and Ryozo's little "chat," Kenshin had been caught twice trying to wriggle his way out of the ropes that kept him bound helplessly to the giant tree. Both times, Kenshin had waited until Ryozo had gone to relieve himself, only to be caught in the act upon the samurai's return. After the second time, Ryozo had resolved not to let Kenshin out of his sight for any reason, and so had made himself comfortable against the tree opposite to Kenshin. Now, under Ryozo's scrutinizing gaze, Kenshin's chances of escape had dwindled from slim to none. However, Kenshin wasn't one to give up. He had tried the excuse of having to relive himself—he really did have to go one of those times—but Ryozo wasn't stupid. He hadn't given the child much to eat or drink that day—a single onigiri and a sip of sake—and told Kenshin that he would simply have do it right there, or hold it in. (Let it be known, Kenshin held out as long as he could, but one simply cannot deny nature forever.)

It had been hours since then, and the ever-familiar feeling of hunger was slowly making its presence known. Glancing up at Ryozo once more, Kenshin stared at his still form for almost a minute, squinting to make out Ryozo's features in the dimming light. His breathing was soft and slow. Sleeping? Perhaps. Kenshin took this as his cue to ever so slowly cut his way out of the ropes. On the second occasion when Ryozo had left the small campsite, Kenshin had managed to get his hand low enough to the ground to grab a piece of slate and start sawing away at the rope. (Kenshin had thanked multiple kami for giving him good luck for once.) After Ryozo had caught him and flung the rock as far from the campsite as was physically possible, Kenshin had managed to find another piece hidden in the grass. He dared not touch it while Ryozo kept vigilant eyes on him, but now that the man appeared to be dozing, it was the perfect opportunity.

_C'mon, c'mon!_ Kenshin thought, craning his neck to the side to see where he was cutting. It was hard to tell how much more was left to be cut, but he was certain that once he had cut at least two-thirds of the way through, he'd be able to pull apart the rest. Kenshin was almost finished cutting through the rope, and was just about to pull it free when he felt a hand wrench the offending slate from his wrist and toss it across the campsite.

_Crap._

Ryozo grabbed the child's chin roughly and forced the boy to face him. Kenshin shrank at the sight of Ryozo's venomous expression, and pressed his back up against the tree.

"Nice try, but you're not going anywhere." Ryozo snapped off the rest of the rope and angrily slung the boy over his shoulder, who was struggling without avail to get out of the samurai's iron-like grip.

"What are you doing?" Kenshin's struggles were beginning to die down as he realized that it was futile, but he was still delivering the occasional kick.

"We're going to the waterfall, you baka. It's almost sunset, and the duel is to take place there. So shut up and be still!" At this outburst, Kenshin went rigid, suddenly reminded of his days as a slave. Although he was fairly sure Ryozo wouldn't hurt him, he was still wary of the man, since he seemed to have a formidable temper.

Tightening his grip on the redhead, Ryozo headed out into the depths of the woods, weaving in and out of trees for about fifteen minutes before the sound of crashing water was heard in the distance, growing louder with every step.

The waterfall was absolutely beautiful, the warm hues of the sky making it look as if it were liquid gold cascading down the cliff instead of water. The waterfall sprayed a considerable mist around everything in the general vicinity, the orange light reflecting off of the tiny droplets, giving the entire area an ethereal glow. It was a shame that no one was going to be paying attention to it, seeing as how they would all be focused on the death match that was about to take place.

Keeping a tight grip on Kenshin with one hand—the child was so small that it was hardly a difficult task—Ryozo pulled out a rope from his small knapsack. Before Kenshin could protest, the rope was swiftly wrapped around his legs and tied. Ryozo then put him on the ground, and keeping Kenshin's legs pinned under his, started to tie the boy's arms to his sides. Kenshin struggled pitifully, but it was no use. He was still incredibly weak, not only from his life as a slave but also from hardly eating that day, and so after a little minor struggling, he was once again tied to a tree, panting and sweating from his efforts.

"Hmph." Ryozo scowled, standing up and brushing himself off. "You're almost more trouble than you're worth." Kenshin's face puckered up in annoyance, but he said nothing. Ryozo turned away and sat down on a nearby rock, glaring at the redhead. Ryozo was more than a little annoyed that his prisoner had almost succeeded in getting free. When he'd kidnapped the child, he'd had no idea how much of a fight the kid was going to put up. Apparently, Hiko had chosen his "apprentice" well.

The minutes ticked by in silence, all other sounds drowned out by the deafening roar of the waterfall. As the sun began to dip behind the trees and the shadows began to stretch across the clearing, Kenshin began to get very nervous. He knew it was irrational, after all, Ryozo could never defeat his Shishou, but he still couldn't help but worry. He should try to find a way to escape…perhaps this duel could still be avoided if he found a way to free himself? Just as he was about to scan the clearing for any tools to aid his escape, he froze, his hair standing on end, as something electric seemed to course through the air.

Kenshin saw Ryozo snap his eyes open, suddenly on full alert. The air…it felt almost…tangible, as if every square inch of it were pulsing with energy, with…a presence. Kenshin couldn't quite explain what he was feeling, but the amount of energy he was sensing…it was terrifying. And yet, something felt oddly familiar about it. Kenshin turned his attention back to Ryozo, who was standing perfectly rigid, his hand on the hilt of his sword, fingers twitching slightly.

"He's here," Kenshin heard Ryozo say before a devious smile spread across his face. Kenshin squinted into the trees, trying to locate the signature white cloak that would announce his master's presence. And sure enough, Hiko could be seen slowly approaching the two, his head down and entire visage hidden in shadow. One didn't need to see his expression to know that he was absolutely livid, for as he approached them, one could almost feel the waves of anger radiating from off of him, becoming more intense with every step. He stopped about ten feet away from them, slowly raising his head to look upon the two. A quick cursory glance at Kenshin showed Hiko that the boy was unharmed, an observation that relieved Hiko greatly. However, his anger was far from being quenched. He flicked his deadly eyes over to Ryozo, who was trembling slightly, a result of a sudden adrenaline rush. He smirked, tightening the grip on his sword.

"So, you've come." Hiko didn't even blink, his sharp glare piercing right into Ryozo's onyx eyes. "Apparently that means this child means a lot to you. Well, I think you'd be happy to know that he admires you greatly. Only good things to say about you. I can't imagine why…but," Ryozo drew his sword slowly and held it in front of him with both hands, tilting his head to the side slightly. "I know the truth about you. And today, finally, justice will be served with my sword." Kenshin looked nervously between the two. He knew this man couldn't defeat his master. It just wasn't possible. And yet…

The idea of being tied to a tree, absolutely helpless, for all intents and purposes a liability to his Shishou…that didn't sit well with Kenshin at all. It didn't matter if his Shishou could defeat this man with ease. Kenshin had to at least try to help. After all, he had his promise to keep.

"_I promise that as long as I have a sword in my hands, I will never let someone I care about die in front of me ever again."_

_Ever. Again. _

_

* * *

_

When Hiko made no response, Ryozo's eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip on his sword. "Come, Ni'itsu! And I will avenge Hiko Seijuro the 12th once and for all!" Hiko didn't even flinch, but instead continued to look intently at the sword pointed directly at him, staring at the blade for a few moments before flicking his gaze up to its wielder.

"Justice?" Hiko spat the word out as if it were a curse. "You, Bring justice to me? How dare you." Kenshin shuddered. Hiko's ki was now truly frightening. "You invade my privacy, insult my competence as a teacher, kidnap my apprentice, use him—an innocent child—as a bargaining chip, and now you claim to be the deliverer of justice?" Hiko's voice was loud enough to overpower the sound of the waterfall. "How dare you."

If looks could kill, Ryozo would have been dead, ten times over.

"It was a means to an end!" Ryozo defended himself, ignoring the brief pang of shame he felt at Hiko's words. He would not be ashamed of what he did. It was the only way, and he would have been a fool to let the opportunity pass. "To avenge my father's death is a noble enough cause to use any—"

"Don't tell me you're still lying to yourself about that. Fool."

"You—"

"I know your conscience is telling you this is wrong. And yet you're trying to ignore it." Ryozo gaped at Hiko, absolutely horrified. "I can read it in your ki. Or have you forgotten?"

"Shut up!" Ryozo shouted, his hands trembling.

"You're angry because you know that everything I say is true. Isn't that right?" Ryozo stood there, trembling with such anger that he could not speak. "I'll give you one last chance, in honor of your father. Leave, and live out your life in peace."

"Never! And don't you _ever_ talk about my father, you bastard!" Hiko's ki changed dramatically after that, going from deadly to somber. Ryozo's father…his Shishou…they had both loved him. And Ryozo was still grieving. It seemed as if he was never going to let go of this unless he knew the truth about his father's death—something that Hiko simply could _not_ tell him. Did this mean Hiko would have to kill his cousin? This was not the outcome he had wanted at all. Despite all the things Ryozo had done, Hiko had to admit one thing: Kenshin was unharmed. This meant that Ryozo wasn't totally unredeemable. And as bothersome as this was going to be, Hiko knew that he would still have to try to bring him back to sanity, even if he had to pound the baka's skull into the ground. (Which, truth be told, Hiko was actually looking forward to doing. Served the baka right for kidnapping _his_ apprentice.)

"I've refused your offer to back down. Now all that's left is to fight." Hiko shook his head slightly, in a gesture that suggested pity. Ryozo snarled, his eyes narrowing. _I'll wipe that patronizing look off his face soon enough! _Hiko drew his sword and held it with both hands, mimicking Ryozo's stance. _So he's not using Battojutsu? _Ryozo observed. _Does he think he won't need it? Such arrogance! I will defeat him today. I have to. _With a loud cry, Ryozo rushed forward, charging headfirst to begin the duel. And with a deafening clash of metal on metal, the battle had begun.

Kenshin watched the two with horrified fascination, trying in vain to follow their movements, but it was too fast. A block here, a slash there, a jump, a roll, a pivot of the foot, another slash, missed, a thrust, jabbed into a tree. A leap, another clash, leaves falling from the impact, a swivel, knocked on the ground, up again, screeching as blades grind against each other, sparks fly, people fly. On the ground again, running, a blur. Battle cries, cry of pain. Drawing blood. First blood. Ryozo.

Ryozo briefly clutched his arm where Hiko's katana had grazed him, but immediately put his hand back to hilt of his weapon and jumped backwards when Hiko slashed at him once again. _His moves—he hasn't used Battojutsu at all! _Ryozo charged at his enemy, only to be blocked and pushed aside. _He hasn't even used any of the moves from Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu either! _Hiko ran towards him, attempting a diagonal sweep, but Ryozo quickly sidestepped to the right, the only thing cut being a few strands of hair. _This isn't the god-like speed of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu! He's barely going faster than I am! _Suddenly a realization dawned on him. _He's—he's playing with me! _

The two stood still for a moment, watching each other. Hiko was stoic and calm—quite the opposite of Ryozo, who was breathing heavily, feeling a slight pain in his chest. He ignored it.

"What's the matter?" he said in between breaths, "Are you afraid you might break a sweat?" Ryozo's voice remained surprisingly level, despite the fact that he was absolutely livid. Hiko remained silent, the only indication that he'd heard Ryozo being the slight narrowing of his eyes. "Well, if you won't use any of your Hiten moves, then I will!" Ryozo charged at Hiko, but right before it seemed as if he would strike, he jumped into the air, raising the sword high above his head. "Ryu Tsui Sen!" Hiko's eyes widened slightly. So Ryozo _had_ been paying attention while Hiko had been training.

He came down hard with the katana, jarring his wrist when the sword met with cold steel. Ryozo flipped backwards as he was pushed back from the force of Hiko's block, and he landed on his feet, sheathing his sword to prepare for battojutsu.

"It's a disgrace to see Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu abused in such a way," Hiko said, sheathing his katana, his right hand hovering over the hilt. "You cannot even begin to grasp the immensity of its power. That small display of what you called a 'Ryu Tsui Sen' was a laughable excuse for a Hiten style attack." Ryozo looked as if he was about to speak, but Hiko continued before he could do so. "If you really want to learn the style so badly, pay attention. I will show you what Hiten Mitsurugi looks like in the hands of a master. Lesson one: Battojutsu." Ryozo's heard sped up rapidly, suddenly feeling a tinge of fear. It looked as if Hiko was finally taking this duel seriously. Although this was what Ryozo had been hoping for all along, he was suddenly faced with the reality that he could possibly die here. The battle had been going on for less than ten minutes, yet Ryozo was already drenched in sweat, out of breath, and slightly injured. Hiko was none of the above and hadn't even used a single one of his Hiten moves, neither had he utilized his god-like speed. Hiko had known he wouldn't need it—he'd known from the very beginning. And so far, he'd been right.

* * *

Kenshin watched the two; both standing with their legs slightly bent and rights hand hovering over their sheathed katana. The fight hadn't been going on for very long, but there were a few things that had him puzzled. Why did Ryozo know a move from Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu? And more importantly, why was his master holding back? Kenshin looked at his master once more, finding his Shishou's eyes narrowed and lips drawn tight into a thin line. Yet, there was no predatory gleam in his eye, no intention to kill. Perhaps he was trying to scare him off? But no, that wouldn't work on Ryozo—from what Kenshin had seen of him—and Hiko surely knew that as well. So, what exactly was his Shishou getting at? Kenshin couldn't quite figure it out. So, for the time being, he decided he would focus on getting himself unbound from the tree. He looked around, half expecting to find a sharp rock somewhere within reach, but no such luck. Well, he'd simply have to wriggle his way out then. It would take a while, but Kenshin had a feeling this battle wasn't anywhere near over.

* * *

Hiko's fingertips lighting brushed the hilt of his katana, watching Ryozo closely. Hiko knew that one small mistake would lead to cleaving the man in two, so he would have to be very careful with his attack. He once again toyed with the idea of simply telling Ryozo the truth about the ougi, but he dismissed the idea almost immediately as he looked at his apprentice. He couldn't tell the secret in front of Kenshin. This left Hiko very few options. He only hoped that his great powers of persuasion could get Ryozo to have a change in heart and let go of the hate he'd kept inside so long. But first, he'd scare the so-called "avenger," and show him what it really meant to be a master of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. And so, Hiko put his hand to the hilt of his blade and pulled, drawing the sword with such speed that Ryozo didn't even have time to bring his hand to grasp his own blade to counter it. In the time it would have taken for someone to blink, Hiko had slashed at Ryozo's midsection, leaving a long horizontal gash. Although it was shallow, it was still quite painful. Ryozo yelled out in pain as he clutched his midsection, but quickly clamped his mouth shut and focused on trying to level his breathing. That pain in his chest was back…

"I held back. If I really wanted to kill you, the upper half of your body would be somewhere on the other side of the clearing." Kenshin winced at hearing that. "Do you still wish to continue? I would be happy to show you some more of the Hiten Mitsurugi moves that you've wanted to learn so badly."

"Shut up! I will _not_ be patronized!" Although Ryozo had promised himself that he would keep his cool during the battle, the fact that Hiko was _playing_ with him was enough to make his calm façade disappear completely. Now all that was left was raw anger, and he let it fuel his movements. He would _not_ lose this battle.

Ryozo charged once again, but Hiko easily spun to the side, bringing his sheath around in an arc, hitting Ryozo square in the back. The sheath hit hard, and it sent Ryozo flying into the river with a loud splash. He broke the surface a few seconds later, sputtering and trying to catch his breath.

"Do you still want more?" Hiko said when Ryozo had dragged himself onto the dirt, gasping for air. Hiko sighed. "You've been ignoring your conscience for too long, Ryozo. You cannot continue like this, not as you are now. Your hatred will destroy you."

"Shut…up!" Ryozo pulled himself to his feet, a look of pure anguish and hatred distorting his features. He picked up his sword—it had fallen in the dirt when he was thrown into the river—and also pulled out his wakizashi, now holding one weapon in each hand. Hiko raised his eyebrow at that. Whatever form Ryozo was going to be using, Hiko had never seen it before. "You think you've earned the right to lecture me, huh? Arrogant bastard."

"You'll have to think of a better insult than that. I'm tired of hearing it."

"SHUT UP!" Ryozo rushed forward with a loud cry that was a mixture of outrage and frustration, his katana and wakizashi held out at his sides. _This is it! My final move that has not seen defeat! The katana for the first strike, and the wakizashi directly after, stabbing the opponent before he can retaliate. I will finally defeat Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth! _Ryozo raised his swords and took a giant leap into the air. _I will defeat him! _Ryozo brought his swords down, putting all of his heart and soul into this one finishing attack.

_I—will—win—this—FIGHT!_

There was a blur.

There was a flash.

There was a scream.

Two swords clambered to the dirt, glowing faintly from the orange light filtering in through the trees. Soon after, two knees slammed into the dirt, followed by two trembling hands.

_No…_

Blood spurted out from a long gash in Ryozo's chest, and he gasped in shock. He had been so certain…his move…how could it—

Suddenly, the pain in his chest was back ten-fold, and he started coughing uncontrollably, tasting blood as well as bile in his mouth. _No! Not…not in front of Hiko…I can't…_Ryozo doubled over, blood dribbling down his lips and fingers as he put his hand up to his mouth. He was trying desperately to breathe, but he couldn't get enough air to his struggling lungs.

He didn't know how long he lay there, but at some point, through the haze of the pain, he became aware of a pressure on his shoulder. A hand. Ryozo snapped his eyes open, slowly lifting his gaze to look upon the face of the man who was comforting him.

Hiko.

He looked upon Ryozo with a look that showed not hatred, not condescension, but compassion. Ryozo could do nothing but stare in disbelief, as the coughs began to die down. Eventually, they stopped, and Ryozo was left gasping for air, feeling incredibly weak and lightheaded. As he looked upon Hiko once more, Ryozo almost wanted to give up on his revenge and move on with his life. He almost wanted to admit that he had been lying to himself all these years and that Hiko really _didn't_ kill his father on purpose. He almost wanted to ask Hiko for his forgiveness for being so foolish. And most of all, he almost wanted to cry.

Almost.

But almost wasn't good enough. It rarely ever is.

With a feral cry, Ryozo pushed Hiko off of him and onto the ground, grabbing his katana and holding it at Hiko's throat. He'd gone mad.

Hiko looked up calmly at Ryozo, a look of deep sadness in his eyes. He couldn't say that he was surprised by Ryozo's actions, but he _had_ hoped that he could bring him back from the brink...and he had been so close. Hiko had felt it in Ryozo's ki and seen it in his eyes. But now…it seemed as if something inside the man had snapped, and there was nothing more that could be done. _So, this is how it's going to be, then. Ryozo will have to die._

Looking back up at the katana pointed at him, mere inches from his face, Hiko sighed. Ryozo was trembling, and Hiko was almost certain that Ryozo was already in a state of mind of over body. With his injuries and his recent attack of consumption, he shouldn't even have been standing. He was truly gone.

"I will now kill you, Hiko." Ryozo smiled crookedly, all traces of sanity gone from his eyes. "I will not be defeated again! I will not—!" Ryozo didn't know what hit him until he was flat on his stomach, gasping for air. "What—"

"You will not kill anyone!" Hiko looked up in shock, finding his deshi standing over the crumpled form of Ryozo, holding a wakizashi in one hand, and the sheath in the other. It was obvious he'd struck with the sheath and not the blade, as there was no blood. Once Hiko had gotten over his initial shock of what Kenshin had done—never mind _how_ the boy had gotten free—he shouted,

"Kenshin! Get back!" Hiko quickly got to his feet and unsheathed his katana, going in to finish Ryozo, but Kenshin had run up at the same time to attack the samurai. Hiko barely had enough time to stop his strike, and he swiveled to the side to avoid cleaving Kenshin in two. "Damn it, I said MOVE!" It looked as if Kenshin's downward slash had made contact, as Ryozo growled in pain and frustration.

"Stay out of this, child!" He pushed Kenshin aside and ran towards Hiko, but Kenshin was faster than Ryozo as he was in his current injured and weakened state, and he managed to get to Hiko less than a second before Ryozo did. However, Ryozo was too out of it to notice this, too blinded by his rage. He didn't see. "DIE!" Ryozo lunged forward with the sword, putting the last of his energy into his thrust.

_DIE!_

But he didn't see.

Time stopped in that moment, the roar of the waterfall muted, and the surrounding forest fading into nothing but a backdrop, as if this entire battle were a play, the ending of which was yet to be discovered.

Or maybe, the ending had been decided from the very beginning.

Ryozo slowly lifted his head, the world around him starting to come back into focus. As he looked up, he expected to find his blade skewered though Hiko's body, as he had met resistance when he delivered the blow. But when he looked upon Hiko's face, he saw not the anguish of one who was suffering a mortal wound, neither the look of utter shock which was also common among those who had their deaths delivered so swiftly that they had not time to feel pain. No, instead, Hiko looked absolutely horrified.

It was only then that Ryozo took the time to follow the path his blade had taken, his eyes trailing his arm, then the length of the sword, until it disappeared into a faded green gi. Ryozo's eyes widened in pure horror, his jaw dropped in stupefaction.

"Sh…shi…shou…" Kenshin coughed, eyes wide and blood sputtering out and dribbling down his chin. Hiko's entire body went numb, as the world around him seemed to be closing in on him. Too shocked to feel anger, or grief, regret, or any other emotion, he could only utter two words.

"Baka deshi…"

* * *

Yes, I know, that was an evil cliffhanger. But I promise it will not take me a year to update! XD Anyways, thank you all for reading! And once again, sorry about the delay in getting this chapter written…would any of you be kind enough to leave a review…? :)


	10. Chapter 10: Realizations

_***posts chapter and hides***_

_It was only then that Ryozo took the time to follow the path his blade had taken, his eyes trailing his arm, then the length of the sword, until it disappeared into a faded green gi. Ryozo's eyes widened in pure horror, his jaw dropped in stupefaction._

_"Sh…shi…shou…" Kenshin coughed, eyes wide and blood sputtering out and dribbling down his chin. Hiko's entire body went numb, as the world around him seemed to be closing in on him. Too shocked to feel anger, or grief, regret, or any other emotion, he could only utter two words._

_"Baka deshi…"_

Hiko was dumbstruck.

The sword had impaled Kenshin in the upper chest, far enough to the left that it had missed his heart, but enough to puncture a lung—as was evidenced by the blood dribbling out from Kenshin's mouth, staining his gi and the dirt beneath him. Hiko stood behind the boy, seeing that the blade had gone far enough into his chest that the tip poked out through his back. This couldn't have happened. It couldn't have. There was no way things could have gone so horribly wrong. Ryozo...

With excruciating slowness, Ryozo pulled out the sword, his mouth still slightly agape, his eyes horror stricken, and his body visibly trembling. Kenshin shuddered when the blade was pulled out, and dropped the wakizashi that he'd been holding in his hand. It clambered to the ground, sounding so loud to Hiko's ears despite the roaring waterfall in the distance.

And then Kenshin fell.

Hiko caught him in a heartbeat, his large hand pressing down with bruising strength to the spot on his deshi's chest where he'd been impaled. It was a gut reaction, but one he knew was in vain. Kenshin wasn't going to live through this. The wound was fatal.

Ryozo was rendered speechless. His mind was in such turmoil that he didn't even think to attack now that Hiko was vulnerable—in fact, he didn't even know if he wanted to anymore. _The child stepped in front of my attack to protect Hiko...to protect _Hiko..._the heartless arrogant bastard who murdered my father. 'No, not murdered,__'_ he heard a voice inside him say, _'killed. By accident.' No! It wasn't an accident! It wasn't..._Ryozo struggled within himself, his pride not wanting to give in to the simple words of reason that his long buried conscience was offering._ 'It was an accident. And you know it. You've always known it.' An accident..._

Hiko lowered the child gently to the ground, cradling the small form in his other arm.

"Baka deshi..." Hiko didn't know what else to say. What else could he say? He watched as Kenshin's eyes fluttered open, his half-lidded gaze looking at him with such calm that Hiko had to force himself not to look away. Such an expression in death was meant for old men who'd lived their lives, not young one's whose lives were just beginning. Those eyes were too old...far too old...Hiko felt a lump forming in his throat, but he tensed every muscle in his face, trying to stay stoic, trying to stay calm. The lump in his throat be damned.

His deshi was struggling to speak, an action that seemed so painful that Hiko almost hushed him, but he decided against it. He should let the boy say what he wanted to say.

"...I..." Kenshin grunted in pain, biting his lip as he struggled to control his breathing so he could finish his sentence. "I...k-kept my promise, Shi...shou. At least..." Kenshin coughed up more blood and Hiko instinctively pressed down harder on the wound, the blood spilling out through his clenched fingers. He could take no more of this.

"Kenshin, please..."

"At least...I..."

"Please stop..." The lump in his throat felt like it was suffocating him.

"I wasn't...useless..." Hiko would never tell him that he'd had the entire situation under control, that Ryozo was no where near fast enough to kill him before Hiko incapacitated him first, that he would have easily been able to dodge the thrust. Hiko would never tell him. Kenshin would die believing that he'd saved his master, and Hiko wasn't so much of a bastard that he'd deprive the child of that. Kenshin deserved that, at least. Kenshin deserved so much more than that.

"You've never been useless, you baka." It was so hard to speak past the lump in his throat. "I would never have chosen a useless apprentice. If you think that I'd do that...you're even more of a baka than I thought..." Kenshin smiled faintly before coughing again, dotting Hiko's face with spots of red. Then his eyes closed and he was still.

"No..." Hiko slightly shook the pale form, Kenshin's head lolling to the side. He could no longer feel the child's ki. _No...he's...he's gone. _It was then that he looked up at Ryozo. The man stood still a few feet away, his arm hanging limply at his side, still holding the bloodstained blade loosely in his hand. Ryozo let the sword slip from his grasp and clatter to the ground as he met Hiko's gaze. The look in that gaze was indiscernible. Ryozo couldn't tell if Hiko was going to kill him or weep. The initial shock of what he'd done had worn off slightly, but the inner battle he'd been having with his conscience wasn't over yet.

_The boy...is...dead. I killed him..._Ryozo looked down at the blade that had settled into the dirt, eying the weapon with horror as the realization of what had just happened finally hit him. A child had just died trying to save the man he'd been trying to kill for almost a decade._ All of those years planning my revenge, and it ends like this.._._Hiko...oh Kami-sama...I know you didn't do it. Damn it..._Ryozo's knees gave out on him and he fell to his hands and knees in the dirt._ No child would try to protect someone who would murder his own master...Hiko...I know you didn't kill my father on purpose. I just...damn it all...Kami-sama..._Ryozo put a hand to his face, covering his eyes as he struggled within himself. _What have I done?_ _What have I been doing these past 8 years since my father's death? What have I been doing...? I just killed a child..._Ryozo looked back up at Hiko, who looked as if it was only his self control that was keeping him from skewering the young samurai to the nearest tree. Perhaps it would be best if Hiko killed him. Ryozo knew he would most certainly deserve it.

Ryozo at this point could still find nothing meaningful to say. He wasn't going to ask Hiko's forgiveness, for he knew he didn't deserve it. His whole life following his father's death had been completely consumed by delusions of delivering justice to his cousin—and it had taken the death of an innocent child to pull him back into reality. He had nothing to avenge, no reason to hate Hiko, and now every reason to hate himself. _My only reason for living was to kill Hiko...now what reason is there? My purpose is gone, and I can no longer do any good in this world..._Ryozo's hollow eyes rolled over to gaze at the sullied blade that lay in the dirt next to him, glinting softly in the moonlight. Slowly, he stretched out his hand to grasp the katana, his fingers slowly gripping the woven leather handle. At that moment, he felt the katana kicked out of his grasp, and a strong arm grab his gi and pull him upright.

"Don't. You. Dare." Hiko's tone was low and deadly, his eyes narrowed with anger.

"Or what?" Ryozo asked softly, his eyes still hollow and lifeless. "You'll kill me?" Ryozo scoffed. However, there was no bite to his sarcasm. He sounded weary."It would just save me the—"

"Shut the hell up." Ryozo closed his mouth and met Hiko's gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Now listen to me," Hiko's voice got darker, and he pulled Ryozo closer until their noses were touching.

"You kill yourself now, then my apprentice's death, all of this, will have been for nothing!" Ryozo shrank at those words. "Your ki is telling me that you've finally accepted the truth. And you...you want to throw everything away. No. You will live, Ryozo. You will live to atone for what you've done. You will _never_ forget the innocent life you took in your mad quest for revenge. You will _never_ forget how your delusion led you to fall to such a state. You must _never forget._ And so you will live."

Hiko threw Ryozo back to the ground, leaving the man speechless. "Take your swords and leave here.

Leave this mountain. And don't you _ever_ come back." Ryozo struggled to stand up on his feet, hiding a wince at his wounds. After clumsily sheathing his katana and wakizashi, he limped past Hiko, going towards the direction of the forest. He limped on for a few moments before stopping to look back at his cousin one last time. He nor Hiko said anything—they just stood there, their expressions indiscernible in the dim moonlight. After a few moments, Ryozo lowered his head and turned around, heading deeper into the forest. Soon, the shadows of the night swallowed him up, and he was no more.

Hiko turned back to look at his fallen deshi who was laying on his back in the dirt. His fiery hair was illuminated by the soft moonlight, standing out starkly in the dark of the night.

_Oh Kenshin..._Hiko knelt down next to the body, picking it up gently and slowly drawing it to his chest. The body was cold and he shivered slightly as it touched his skin. _You baka..._Hiko closed his eyes as he cradled the tiny child, the blood smearing onto his hands, forearms, chest, and gi.

Then, silently, Hiko wept.

After a few minutes had gone by, Hiko began to notice something very strange...it felt as if Kenshin's chest were moving, ever so slightly. _Kenshin...?_ Hiko slowly lowered his ear down to Kenshin's chest, holding his breath while his heart sped up so quickly that it felt as if it were about to beat out of his chest.

Then he heard it. _Thump...thump...thump thump..._It was slow, barely audible, irregular for certain. But by God it was there.

Hiko's eyes widened and he stood up with a start, holding the child protectively to his chest. "Kami-sama..." _It can't be...Kenshin's still alive! All this time...kuso...what if it's too late to save him? _Hiko looked down at the prone body in his arms, the brief moment of joy gone as fear suddenly took a hold of him. He had to get the child to a doctor, and fast. As good as Hiko's medical skills were, he knew that such a wound was far beyond his medical expertise. There was a doctor in town whom he trusted, but Hiko couldn't be certain that Kenshin would last the trip to village. _But I'll be damned if I don't try._

Hiko had never run so fast before in his life.

Hiko sprinted down the mountain path, cradling the boy in one hand while he applied pressure to the wound with the other. He hadn't taken the time to properly bandage the wound for fear of using up valuable time. _Please Kenshin...hold on...you've been strong enough to survive until now...please...just a little bit longer..._Hiko held the child even closer to his chest, hoping that Kenshin could absorb some of his body warmth. The boy was _so cold..._Hiko did his best to shelter Kenshin with his cloak, but Kenshin's skin was still icy to the touch. The boy had lost so much blood that it was a wonder he was still alive. What was even more wondrous was the fact that hadn't died as soon as the sword impaled him. It was unbelievable. This child had faced death so many times, yet somehow managed to pull through. Hiko could only hope that Kenshin's resilience would pull through for him once again.

About a minute into his sprint, Hiko caught sight of something lying in the middle of the mountain path—a body. Hiko knew that time was not on his side and so was tempted to ignore the unfortunate soul and keep on going, but once he got close enough to see the body, he stopped. Ryozo. It looked as if his various wounds and recent attack of consumption had finally caught up to him. The unconscious samurai moaned softly. _So he's alive._ Hiko narrowed his eyes and stepped over the body. He knew that he couldn't waste any time—not with Kenshin nearing death with every second he tarried here. If the fool had collapsed, then he'd let him be. Kenshin's life was far more important. Hiko turned around and continued his sprint down the mountain, taking one more glance at Ryozo's unconscious form lying in the dirt. _But he'll die if I leave him here, _a voice inside of Hiko said. _You didn't spare his life only to have him die of his injuries, did you?_ Hiko clenched his jaw and growled in frustration. No. He couldn't turn back now. He just couldn't. He would keep going in the direction he was going. No deviations, no turning back.

"Damn it all to hell!" If anyone had been making their way up the mountain, they would've seen a very strange sight. A giant of a man running at full speed towards town muttering curses, while cradling a bloody red-haired child in one hand and holding onto a full grown man on his shoulder with the other.

–

"Kazuo, I told you that we were out of daikon last week!"

"Well, why didn't you go to the market and buy some? You can't make grilled fish without daikon."

"Someone doesn't trust his wife with the money, remember? I can't exactly go buy anything when you don't even so much as give me a single mon!"

"You know very well why I don't trust you with the money. You lose everything." Kazuo, the town's medicine man, munched unhappily on his daikon-free fish, muttering obscenities under his breath.

"That only happened once! Besides, we were at the festival. It's very easy to set down something and forget about it," the woman said with a huff before getting up to make some tea for the two of them.

"I think it's only easy for you..." Kazuo mumbled almost incomprehensibly as he took the last bite of his very—in his opinion—bland supper.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, dear. Nothing at all..." Kazuo rolled his eyes and looked down distastefully at his empty plate. After a hard day of working to save the life of a man who'd accidentally cut off his forearm while chopping wood—he didn't even want to know how that happened—he'd been looking forward to a nice, enjoyable, and especially tasty dinner. "Hmph..." Kazuo looked over at his wife who was busily making them some tea. _Although...I suppose there was no need for me to yell...I should probably apologize. _Just as Kazuo opened his mouth to speak, the shoji slid violently open and a flurry of red and white rushed inside.

"I need a doctor, **now**!" Kazuo's eyes widened as he saw himself gazing at none other than Hiko Seijuro the Thirteenth, who was...out of breath?

"What's the—" Kazuo stopped when he saw the red tuft of hair peeking out from underneath Hiko's cloak. A red-haired child...? Kazuo had heard rumors of Hiko's new red-haired ward, but had never actually seen the boy for himself. Upon further inspection, he noticed that there was a young man draped over Hiko's shoulder.

"What in Kami's name-!"

"I'll explain later. For now, the boy, please. He's dying." Kazuo had never seen the Hiten Mitsurugi master so flustered, so scared. This was very serious indeed.

"Bring him over here." Kazuo hurriedly lead Hiko to one of the bedrooms and gestured for him to lay the boy in the futon. "Naomi, bring me some towels and a bowl of hot water." The shocked woman nodded and hurried away to complete the task. "The other man's wounds are not as serious I take it?"

"No. He'll live for now. Focus on the boy. He's been impaled."

"Impaled!" Kazuo pulled off the boy's gi carefully and unwound Hiko's makeshift bandage to reveal the wound. The boy had indeed been impaled, through and through. It was a miracle he was still alive. Kazuo exhaled heavily and ran his hands through his hair before getting to work. Reaching into one of the drawers in the room, he pulled out a roll of bandages, some string, a pair of scissors, and a some special herbs and creams. "Naomi! Where is that hot water!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" At that moment she entered the room with towels draped over her arm and a bowl of hot water. It was a good thing that she'd been making tea, or else she would've had to wait to heat up the water. "Here." She set down the materials and Kazuo got right to work cleaning off the wound. Hiko stood by like a vigilant hawk, ready to offer help should the doctor need any. However, Hiko knew that there wasn't a whole lot that he could do when it came to surgery, with even the simple tasks such as helping to put on bandages and heating up more water being done by Kazuo's wife, his assistant. There was literally nothing Hiko could do but watch, and a feeling of helplessness began to take over him. His already rapidly beating heart sped up even faster, and a horrible feeling lodged itself in the pit of his stomach, making him feel slightly nauseous. He couldn't bear to lose his deshi for a second time. It was so ironic...with all of the power he wielded with Hiten Mitsurugi, the power he had trained years for in order to protect people and save lives...he was still unable to save the life of the person he wanted to most. It was now up to Kenshin. _Baka deshi...I know you're strong enough to pull through this. You'd better not die now. I didn't go through all the trouble of running all the way down here as fast as I did for you to die on me...so you better keep on breathing...you inconsiderate little __twit...don't you dare die..._

Hiko took Kenshin's small hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "Don't you dare die, baka deshi...please, hold on."

Kenshin squeezed gently back.

–

Heh, heh...so, it has been over a year...I bet you all thought I gave up on this story! Never! I wouldn't be cruel enough to end a story at such a terrible cliff hanger. If you really want a good reason as to why I haven't updated in so long...well, I don't really have one, to be honest. Senior year was hectic for me, but I'll admit that I had enough free time to be able to write another chapter—I just kept procrastinating until now. However! Something good came of being a busy bee in high school—I got into the school of my dreams! (Not that anyone here probably cares...haha) I'm hoping that I'll have enough motivation to continue with this story throughout college—and I also hope that my writing has gotten better as well! Also, after looking at the poll on my profile, it seems as if almost everyone wants me to continue this story until Kenshin leaves to join the revolution. I suppose I'll try...don't be surprised if I don't finish this till I graduate college hahahaha (no, really.)

And about Kenshin being impaled and surviving...it's happened before! Although, in the mid 1800s in Japan, his survival would be very unlikely, I decided to use my artistic license to get away with this one. XD I tried at first to be as medically accurate as possible, but then I decided that it simply wasn't worth the effort. In real life, yes, Kenshin would have died. But is this real life? No. So, he lives. And ta-da! That's the end of that. (Besides, the amount of beatings that Watsuki puts his characters through, it's clear that he used his artistic license to explain their survival as well. XD)

Side note! Eshva has drawn a picture of my OC, Ryozo, and sirensbane has written a one-shot for one of my RK fanarts. I've posted links to both on my profile! Check them out!

Side note #2! If anyone has checked out my profile lately, you'll see that I'm offering to be a beta reader. (Don't worry, I beta read much faster than I write chapters! It would only take me a few days to beta read a chapter.) However, I'm pretty picky when it comes to what I'll beta. I would love to beta-read for anyone who's going to write a story with Hiko in it! So if you are and need someone to help you out, you know who to ask. :) Anyway, this is a pretty long authors notes section, so I think I'll stop here for now.

Until next chapter!

**EDIT: This chapter is currently being edited! I think I made Hiko too much of a sap...and there were a few issues that my beta pointed out that I've decided to work on. I'll probably finish editing the chapter tonight, and I'll let you guys know when it's uploaded. :)**


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